Mockingjay: Katniss' Hijacking
by MrsMellark74
Summary: During the final moments of the Quarter Quell Peeta Mellark was rescued by the District 13 rebels and Katniss Everdeen was taken to the Capitol to be tortured. A plot twist on the original version of Mockingjay. [Peeta's POV]
1. Prologue

****IMPORTANT****

This story is a re-write of Mockingjay from Peeta's point of view as if he was saved by the rebels and Katniss was captured by the Capitol during the Quarter Quell. A lot of the original plot has been changed to fit Peeta better HOWEVER the structure and much of this stories sequence belongs to Suzanne Collins.

_**Prologue **_

I sprint, attempting to put as much distance between Finnick, Beetee and myself as I can. I'm not sure why they insisted that Katniss and I separate, but it is clear to me now how that plan was flawed. Now I must run and find Katniss before someone else does. However, I pause at the sight of two much larger opponents who stand before me. I slip my body behind a tree hoping that they do not see me or hear me stomping through the jungle.

I watch as Brutus' spear enters into Chaff's chest. He collapses to the ground, the cannon signalling his end. This sight fills me with a sudden rage. I just can't stand being trapped inside this dome anymore. I can't stand the fact that people were able to manipulate me into separating from Katniss. I can't stand the fact that I so carelessly threw my own judgement out of the window. Without thinking, I take my machete and stab it into the center of Brutus' back before he can turn around and spot me. His cry of pain makes me shudder, especially knowing that I've caused it. Before he crashes to the ground, he attempts to defend himself by throwing a spear in the same place that causes Chaff's death blow. Yet, he misses as he fights his most certain death, but his spear skims my shoulder. The pain makes me wince as I too call out in terror, yet it becomes hidden by the sound of Brutus' cannon.

When I become brave enough to examine the wound, I see a large gaping dent in my shoulder that is pouring out blood. I grab some moist moss from a tree above me and begin to run, because I only have one mission left.

"Katniss, where are you?" I shout, not caring at this point who hears me. My only goal is to find her and protect her. I could not live with myself if I lost her now. Allowing Beetee to separate us was my first mistake, and now I must locate her again.

"Katniss!" I continue hollering, but my running turns to stumbling as I realize I am losing to much blood. But I force myself to stay upright; I have to find her.

"Peeta!" I hear her yell back and her voice instantly widens my eyes.

I am now screaming her name, "Katniss, Katniss!" Hoping to draw all attention away from her yells because I know she is probably trying to do the same thing for me.

I begin running again, but trip over a tree root and land directly onto my shoulder. The pain is blinding and I find myself wishing that I could just stay here on the ground. It would not be the worst place to die. It is rather comfortable and I am just so tired.

"Peeta!" Her voice echoes through my ears and immediately pulls me back onto my feet

"Katniss! Where are you? Stay with me!" I yell, begging her to reach me. I want to hold her and tell her that she will be alright, but I can't seem to get to her. Something is wrong. There is clearly some plan set in place by the other members of our alliance that we were not aware of. I wish we would have set off on our own before this. I should have listened to her when she tried to convince me to leave. Yet I didn't and there is no one to blame but myself.

I try jogging, but stumble and land onto my shoulder again. I begin to see small black dots in my vision and I know this is not good. In the distance, I hear a deafening explosion and can only hope that it does not involve Katniss. Yet a strange feeling in my stomach makes me think that it does. I am on the verge of passing out and my quick moss bandage is dripping blood. The dark crimson colour is the last thing I see before my vision goes completely black.

* * *

When I wake, I am being lifted. I am being carried by a hovercraft crane. What waits above is most likely torture. Yet, the only thought in my mind is that of Katniss Everdeen, and the hope that she is okay. My mind goes black once more.

* * *

When my brain begins to enter back into sub consciousness, I notice how I am lying on a cold metal table. There are tubes running into my arms and the beeping of monitors by my head. I can tell they are trying to keep my alive with all of these devices. When I open my eyes, I realize that I am alone, except for Beetee who is clearly being sustained by an army of machines. I still am not sure where we are right now. If we are headed to the Capitol, surely they plan on killing us; there is no way they will allow all of us rebellious tributes to live. But where are the others? Who all made it out and survived this mess? Finnick, Johanna, Enobaria...Katniss?

The thought of Katniss being alive forces my body up to a sitting position. Surely she is being kept somewhere else on this hovercraft, I just need to find out where that location is so I can finally be with her and create some plan to get us both out of here. I rip the tubes out of my arms and quietly begin walking to the exit of this small sterile room.

"Katniss..." I whisper, hoping to hear her voice calling back in return.

I step down a slim hallway to a large silver door that is slightly cracked open. Someone is behind it; for a moment I am excited, hoping that perhaps it is Katniss. However, I know that would most likely be untrue. Instead, I press my ear against the door and listen to the voices inside.

"Communications are down in Seven, Ten, and Twelve. But Eleven has control of transportation now, so there's at least a hope of them getting some food out."

I know who that voice belongs to. Plutarch Heavensbee; Head Games Maker. I fight off a chill because his voice only confirms that we are indeed heading to the Capitol.

Just as I am about to sprint away, I hear more voices. Another voice speaks, but it is too quiet for me to make out. Yet, a hoarse voice that I would recognize anywhere answers the questions asked; Haymitch.

"No. I'm sorry. There's no way I can get you to Four. But I've given special orders for her retrieval if possible. It's the best I can do, Finnick."

Haymitch, Finnick. Why the hell are they talking to Plutarch? After all the pain and suffering he has caused us, why in the world are they associating? And Finnick, why would Haymitch be speaking with someone who attempted to kill me. My mind struggles to make sense of this conversation. Are they perhaps trying to reason with Plutarch to give us surviving victors some kind of immunity? And where is Katniss? I am suddenly scared she is badly injured because if she was awake, I know she would be in this room right now, speaking with Haymitch. It continues until I can't take in anymore. I swing the door open and drag myself into the room.

Plutarch, Haymitch, and an extremely beat up Finnick sit around a table. There is an untouched meal graced upon it and from outside the window, I can see the tops of trees pass by as the hovercraft soars.

"Awh Peeta! Welcome back to reality." Haymitch says.

I step forward, not sure of how I should be reacting. Right now, all I seem to feel is betrayal. I knew Finnick betrayed me the moment I left him to find Katniss, but Haymitch? Up until now I always saw him as an ally and someone whom I could trust. We were a team.

I watch Plutarch set a bowl of soup and a fresh roll down in front of an empty seat at the table. He slips a spoon into my hand. "Eat." He says in a voice that is calmer then Haymitch's.

"Peeta, I am going to explain everything that happened in the arena. But I do not want you to ask any questions until I'm done. Do you understand?" Haymitch asks.

"Where is Katniss?" I reply bitterly, ignoring his request.

Haymitch sighs. "Do you understand?"

I narrow my eyes at him and nod, knowing that I will be forced to listen to everything despite only wanting one question to be answered. And this is what he tells me.

There was a plan to break us all out of that arena once the Quarter Quell was announced. All of the victors' tributes from districts 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, and 11 had at least some knowledge of this plan. It also turns out that for several years, Plutarch Heavensbee has been part of an undercover group to overthrow the Capitol. He was the one to make sure Beetee's wire was among the weapons. Beetee was then in charge of blowing a hole in the force field. The bread from the arena was code to the knowledgeable tributes about our rescue time as well. The hovercraft that we are currently riding in belongs to District 13, which is where we are currently being taken to right now, while many the other Districts are in full-scale rebellion.

Eventually, Haymitch pauses and it is an awful lot to take in. I also cannot seem to shake the feeling of manipulation.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, my voice rising towards Haymitch. "You promised no more secrets!"

"Neither you or Katniss were told. It was too dangerous and we couldn't risk you mentioning it during the games." Plutarch adds.

"Where is she?" I ask in a much sterner voice then I had previously.

All three sets of eyes turn off my gaze. "Where is Katniss?" I demand, banging my fist onto the table.

"The Capitol got her...along with Johanna and Enobaria." He finally replies.

One time, when I was eleven, my mother made me climb onto the roof of the bakery to fix a small leak. I was only a small child at that point and slipped off of the roof after attempting to repair it. I fell and landed straight onto my back. During that moment, the wind was knocked completely out of my body and I wasn't sure I was capable of taking in another breath. I didn't think I would never experience something like that ever again; until this very moment.

My heart suddenly feels like it has stopped beating and I have the greatest urge to get up from my chair and ram my fists down Haymitch's throat. We had a deal to protect her and he failed. Yet that is when I remember; we both failed. My mind begins to comprehend the fact that Katniss will never be coming home; the Capitol will torture her for information she is unaware of and kill her. I clench my hands into fists and bring them to my eyes attempting to block out all that is around me. I let out a blood curdling scream and begin to sob. The salty tears are pouring down my face and over my mouth; I have lost her.

"Peeta, Peeta...I'm sorry! They'll figure out she doesn't know anything and won't kill her if they believe they can use her against you!" Finnick's voice in the last voice I hear before a sharp pain hits my neck.

* * *

When I wake up again, I know that we must be in District 13. The walls are grey and it smells of dusts. There is no energy down here and it feels very depressing; making me feel hopeless. In ways, District 13 and myself have a lot of common. Many people have tried to feed me, but I refuse to eat. They will dress me, only to find that I soil my clothing within an hour. They pump liquids into my veins, but they do not do much. It takes more than these simple liquids to keep a person alive once they have lost their will to live.

I'm not sure how long I have been here when Haymitch enters the room. He looks at me and I can tell he is concerned.  
"Haymitch," I begin, "I just want to go _home._"

These are the first words I have spoken in days and judging by his answer, I can tell that he does not understand what _home_ actually means to me right now. And what _home_ I am really referring to.

"Peeta, we can't go home. There is no District 12."


	2. Chapter 1

I breathe in the cold ash-filled air, staring at the empty lot in front of me. This is where I spent so many hours of my day. This is where I grew up; where I discovered that baking was something I could be good at. And now nothing is left but the ashes that contain my memories and my family. The bakery was obliterated and so were they.

There is basically nothing remaining of District 12 now. A month ago, the Capitol's firebombs destroyed everything its wake. The only area that remains is the Victors Village; the most useless part of the District. No one has come back to Twelve now. It is literally a _ghost down._ All of its citizens are either in 13, or dead. And right now, I'm not quite sure which would have been the better option.

It took a long time to convince Plutarch and the president of District 13, Alma Coin, to let me come here. I'm not sure why, considering that there is really no harm at all. But, I wanted to come back, for myself and for Katniss. She has been taken prisoner by the Capitol along with Johanna, Enobaria, and Finnick's lover, Annie. We are not sure what they are doing to them at this point. Plutarch reminds me of how they are still much too valuable, so odds are, they will not be killed. Tortured, but not killed.

It turns out Haymitch and Plutarch had a goal to rescue Katniss over me from the beginning; a plan that I wish with every part of my soul was carried through. But it wasn't until they got inside the area; I was the first tribute spotted and Coin had given direct orders to get me out first. She figured I would do better on camera considering I was the one who always did the speaking for both Katniss and I. However, her plan failed because I have not done too much speaking since returning from the arena. My hatred for Coin is strong and I do not think there is much she could ever do to make me forgive her. But as for everyone else, Katniss is still our Mockingjay. Plutarch wants to inform the Districts of her capture and showcase me as the symbol of the rebels until she returns.

I keep myself alive simply on the promises from Haymitch that the rebels would eventually be working through a plan to rescue her. As long as Katniss lives, I live in hopes that I could be used somehow in her rescue. Gale has already volunteered himself to lead her rescue mission, but I doubt they would ever let me be a part of it considering I am labelled as someone who is mentally unstable.

"Peeta, should we come down?" Haymitch's voice enters my head through a headset that he insisted I wear. They are up in a hovercraft watching carefully and ready to swoop down if anything goes amiss. I realize now that I have been staring blankly at the obliterated bakery for probably ten minutes now, so they most likely assumed I was on the verge of another meltdown or something.

I lift my shoulders and stand straighter. "No, I'm alright." I begin pacing towards the direction of the Victors Village to show them that I am still capable of movement.

The summer has been unbearably hot and dry that the piles of ash still remain untouched. I keep my eyes forward, not wanting to look at the ground and see the remains of the people I once knew so well. When we first arrived, I was not careful of this and walked straight into the remains of someone's leg. More chillingly was the fact that it was small in size; a child perhaps. All of these people tried to flee while I was trapped in an arena. Gale deserved the credit for the survivors however; it was he who decided to lead them to the meadow. It is impossible to hate Gale; he has done too much. I just wish my family would have made it into the group of survivors. But because Katniss and I chose to be rebellious, these innocent people suffered. I don't blame either of us though. I blame the Capitol; I blame President Snow. This is his doing and his fault; not mine. I tell myself that twenty times a day. It helps keep me sane on those days where I don't think I can go on.

When I reach the Victors Village, I stop myself in front of my house. I lived here alone for less then a year after coming out of my first arena. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to go back in, but right now, something is telling me that I should give it one final goodbye because odds are I won't return here. I walk inside the house that is warm from the summer's air but only dare to grab a few things. I was never fond of this house and have a great desire to get out as soon as possible. From the fireplace mantel, I grab a photo of the family I lost. Next, I take one of my father's baking aprons that I am not very thankful I brought home randomly one day. Finally, I dash up the stairs and into my art room. I open the door and suddenly a strong aroma hits me like a tonne of bricks.

Right on the easel that contains a portrait of Katniss and I inside a cave, sits a fresh white rose. Only one person could have left me a gift such as this; President Snow. I take the rose and the glass vase it stands in and slam it out of my window. Then I open the large window wider, in hopes of clearing out the foul smell. I pick up my brushes and a set of paints and dash down the stairs, out the door immediately. The acknowledgement that someone from the Capitol or perhaps even the President himself, has entered my house without me being aware of it, is chilling.

I look over to Katniss' house; the home she shared with both her mother and sister. I walk in the front door, somehow hoping that she will be inside waiting to greet me. However, her home, just like mine, is so eerily empty. I walked inside and try to decide what items I should take back to 13 with me that she would want. After a bit of searching, I settle on an old photo of her parents' wedding day, her father's hunting jacket, and her family's book of medical plants. I open the book gently and instantly flip to the back where my creations are so carefully crafted on the pages. I see Katniss' elegant handwriting below the plants and trace her letters with my fingers. Some of my greatest memories in life occurred when the two of us decided to work on this book. We would sit together for hours sometimes, listening to each other's breaths; Katniss studying my hands as I painted each detail. The way I would catch her staring at me and pretend not to notice. That is what I will miss. I close the book because suddenly I am worried I will start crying.

I hastily make my way up into her bedroom to make sure there is nothing of importance I should bring along. When I open the door, the bright red colour catches my eye. Lying upon her bed is a single red rose; the flower meant for two lovers. The blood inside my veins begins to boil and I have an intense urge to break something. How dare he do this to me? I realize now that Snow will attempt to do anything that will break me, and I must remain strong.

Suddenly, a noise sounds behind my back. I turn quickly at the sound of a hiss and spot Prim's old cat. What was his name again? Buttercup.

"Buttercup, do you want to go see Prim?" At the sound of her name, his ears perk up. I reach out my hand and gently stroke him behind the ears, demonstrating to him that I will not hurt him. I grab a blanket from Katniss' closet and wrap the cat inside it and clutch him against my chest. Prim will be happy to see him and I know she could use a little happiness right now. She has been spending much of her time in the hospital working for them. I can tell she is trying to channel the pain of losing her sister into her work. She does not seem like the frightened young girl Katniss once volunteered for. She is older and braver now. The Capitol has managed to steel the youth of another innocent child.

Before I leave her bedroom, I lift the red rose from her bed and bring it with me downstairs, I light a small fire in her fireplace and toss the flower into the flames. I watch as it turns to ashes; a symbol to President Snow that I am much more than just a piece in his games.

* * *

**Thank you guys for checking out my story! I am so excited to share this one with you! Make sure to follow my twitter ** TributeGirlEm** for updates and sneak peeks to future chapters! I will also answer any question you have about this story on my a**skfm- TributeGirlEmma** . Please leave me a review about your thoughts on this story so far and what you would like to see in future chapters! I will be putting this story on a weekly schedule where I will be posting a new chapter every Saturday so stay tuned! **


	3. Chapter 2

It takes a few minutes for Plutarch to confirm that the airspace is clear before we can officially speed out of District 12. He has to make sure that no Capitol hovercrafts have spotted us and are attempting to make a beeline over to attack us at once.

I sit in an empty seat against the wall of the hovercraft with Buttercup seated next to me. I stroke his back as he lets out soft purrs at my touch. For some reason, it comforts me.

"Pretty bad down there?" Speaks a deep familiar voice.

I look up and see Gale standing in his mandatory grey District 13 outfit. His arms are crossed protectively in front of himself as his silver eyes that so closely resemble Katniss' stare down at me. I'm not surprised the Capitol tried to pass them off as cousins. They really do look somewhat similar.

"I don't think it could possiblly get much worse," I reply, looking down at the disheveled cat, not truly wanting to meet his eyes.

"It was wise of you, to grab the belonging that you did from her house." Gale tells me somewhat awkwardly.

I'm not sure really how to describe the relationship we share. It is definitely not hatred, but I would not exactly call it a friendship. I consider Gale more of a friendly acquaintance. At times, we are jealous of each other; other times, thankful. However, we do have something very important in common: we both lost something that meant a great deal to us.

"I just thought they could all use something from home to hang on to," I reply.

There is a pause for a moment. Gale and I do not say anything, but instead just take in the presence of one another.

"You know, you make it really hard for me to hate you." He finally states with a grin.

I can't help but chuckle at his words. "I feel the same way."

For the rest of the ride back to 13, Gale and I sit next to each other with only Buttercup to separate us. We don't say anything, but just being there with each other offers more meaning than any words would be able to.

When we finally arrive in 13, it is grievously not much of an improvement over 12. The air is just as chilling and the vibe just as depressing. It is no longer full of smoke like they advertise on the Capitol television programs, but almost nothing remains above ground. District 13 was rebuilt underground deep below the earth's surface therefore these people hardly ever see sunlight. District 13 agreed to play dead if the Capitol agreed to leave them alone during the dark days. However, it is awfully concerning that for seventy-five years, they sat back doing nothing while the rest of the twelve districts were forced to send our children into the Capitol's deadly arenas. Now the citizens live almost exclusively underground. Each citizen is given a strict schedule that must be obeyed and every person above the age of fourteen is addressed as "soldier".

They only just recently started giving me a schedule because for the longest time, I was living in and out of the hospital. Even though my physical state was excellent and easily fixed, my psychological state was a different story. It took multiple therapists and many days to be able to convince me that losing Katniss to the Capitol was not my fault. However, I am still not to sure I am convinced. Now I am moved to Compartment 305 and expected to get with the program. Katniss' mother lives in Compartment 312 and often comes in to check on me; to make sure I'm still breathing. On my better days, I feel the need to check on them because I make myself remember that I am not the only one who lost a loved one here.

Today I decidto make a special trip up to the hospital to see Finnick Odair; the sex god of the Capitol. If only they could see him now. Finnick wears the same plastic medical bracelet as me, that classifies us both as mentally disoriented. The only difference is, Finnick is even more severe than myself. The day I heard the theory of Katniss most likely being alive, I made myself stand and attempted a return to a normal life. Finnick, however, refuses to get out of bed.

When I enter his small room, I am surprised to see that the nurses have gotten him to sit up; a small improvement over his previous state. He sits there, lost in his own world, feverishly tying knots in a small strand of rope.

"Finnick!" I exclaim in my most cheerful voice. "It's nice to see you up and awake."

He looks up briefly from his rope. I can see the colour that has drained from his eyes. He offers me a half-smile and then goes back to tying.

"Good news!" I announce. "I'm going to see Haymitch and Coin to talk about their rescue mission."

Finnick's head perks up at this statement and he drops the rope onto his lap.

"Really?" He questions. "I should probably come with you, in case they talk about Annie."

He attempts to get out of bed before an alarm sounds that rushes three nurses into the room. They motion him back into bed and instruct him to stay sitting. I can tell that this is making him extremely anxious because the idea of Annie's rescue is his only desire right now.

"It's alright, Finnick. I'll go and come back to tell you everything that goes on." I tell him, taking a step closer to his bed and resting my hand upon his chilled arm.

"Promise?" He replies, sounding unconvinced.

"Of course."

With that, I exit the hospital and make my way to the elevator that will take me to Command. I strongly detest elevators because they remind me of the ones that took me up into the dreaded Hunger Games, and sadly, District 13 is full of elevators.

When I arrive in Command, the many high-tech electronic maps are lit up with the movements of troops in various districts. A group of people sit around a giant table filled with control panels. Plutarch waves me over to the table and I take a seat between him and Gale.

They are all watching the large television screens that are broadcasting the usual Capitol propaganda; replaying the District 12 bombings or some useless message of encouragements from President Snow. When Caesar Flickerman pops up on the screen, it is almost a relief to see his over-the-top and entertaining personality. His face is painted like always and he is dressed an extravagant sparkly suit. The entertainment of the situation fades however, when the camera goes wide and I see that his guest is Katniss.

The sound that escapes me is one that I was not sure I was able to make. It is a combination of pure relief, but also of extreme fear that she may be harmed. I am instantly up on my feet and pushing everyone out of my way to get to the screen that holds her face. Gale is on my heels and together, people quickly step out of our way.

My eyes scan hers, searching for any type of pain or signs of torture. I am the closest person to the screen, so I take my hands and place them onto it as if I was reaching out to caress her cheek. She looks healthy, strong even; nothing like how I last saw her in the arena. She is beautiful; radiant. Her skin is glowing and almost sparkling in that full body polished type of way. She is composed, but clearly uncomfortable; not much different than any of her other Capitol interviews from the past.

Caesar situates himself in a white chair across from her and gives her a flashing smile. "So... Katniss...welcome back."

Katniss does her best to smile at him, but I can tell how completely forced her efforts are.

"I must confess, I thought I had done my last interview with you. Who ever thought we'd see you again?" Caesar says.

"It wasn't part of my plan, that's for sure." Katniss replies, looking down at her hands.

A stabbing sensation jabs my heart because I know exactly what she is talking about. Her and I were both only trying to save each other; our own lives were not what we were hoping to save.

Caesar leans in a little closer to her. "I think it was clear to all of us what your plan was: to sacrifice yourself in the arena so that Peeta Mellark could survive."

I can't see him, but I can feel Gale's eyes trained on the back of my head.

"That was it." Katniss replies, her fingers tracing the pattern in the chair. "But other people had plans as well."

I wonder if she is piecing together what has happened. Truly nobody in the Capitol has informed her. Maybe she understands how Haymitch has betrayed us both by not informing us of the plan.

For awhile, there is silence. I notice the creases that have formed by her eyes. But the Capitol has not killed her, or has even hurt her and right now, that is more than I could have ever even hoped for. I take in her image; the beauty of her body and the sound of her voice. It runs through me like medicine in my veins, giving me the strength to get through these next few days.

"Why don't you tell us about the last night in the arena?" Suggests Caesar. "Help us to sort a few things out."

Katniss narrows her eyes at him and I can tell she does not want to speak. I know her too well by now to understand that she does not believe she should have to sort anything out for these people. However, eventually she begins after a little coaxing from Caeser.

"Well, that last night...," she begins, "in that horrible arena, felt like being trapped like a rabbit caught in a snare. Every minute I was worrying that I could be killed, or worse, that Peeta could be killed. That's what it felt like to be in that arena. During those last two days, sixteen people had been killed, some of them defending me."

My body begins to shake at the memory. The memory of the morphling girl giving her life to save me, and Katniss mentioning my name for the first time.

"Clearly, my last desire was to save Peeta, but things didn't feel right." She snaps. "I regret not running off earlier that day."

_Me too, Katniss, me too._

"You were too caught up in Beetee's plan to electrify the salt lake." Caesar says.

"And to busy playing allies with the others. I should have never let them separate us!" She is shouting now. "I should have taken care of them all when I had the chance. I could hear Peeta yelling for my name, but I couldn't get to him."

* * *

**Authors Note:**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I will still be posting one on Saturday I just wanted to give you all a bonus chapter! I just feel like getting this story moving! I also understand that this story is still new, so my review tally is not very high. Yet I needed to say thank you because most of the people who did review have been with me since way back when. I recognized your usernames because I know you were avid Guarding Daisies readers. It means so much to me that you are back and supporting me again! You guys really have no idea how much you mean to me and how appreciative I am of your support. I look forward to hearing from you all again and of course hearing from my new readers! I love new ideas and comments! Make sure to follow my twitter** TributeGirlEm** for updates and sneak peeks to future chapters! You can also find me on my TributeGirlEmma and ask me any questions about this story there! Thank you for reading and I will see you guys again on Saturday.**


	4. Chapter 3

That night my dreams are filled with Katniss. Most nights she appears in them anyways, but usually I am graced with nightmares that involve losing her. Tonight, however, all of my dreams are peaceful. In my dreams, we are together and safe; somewhere far off at home - in District 12. A meadow perhaps. She is not in the grasp of the Capitol and I am not in Thirteen fighting against her with the rebels. When I wake up, I am saddened because for once, my dreams were peaceful and far better than my reality. I feel somewhat betrayed by my own brain for giving me such a false hope that things were okay again.

I force myself out of bed and dress in my drab District 13 clothing. Right now I miss my stylist Portia. I never thought I would miss all of her Capitol designs, but she always had a way of making me feel comfortable in my outfits. She used to add shades of green into my style hoping that it would intrigue Katniss, considering it was her favourite. And right now, I would love to wear a nice green or orange shirt instead of this plain grey head to toe outsift. As painter I understand how the use of colours can play such a role in one's mood. For me colours like orange, green, and yellow make me feel joyed. Yet colors like grey manage to make me feel even more depressed on top of these already horrible situations.

My schedule for today includes: 7:00am-breakfast followed by 7:30am-Command. This is where they will announce me as the official face of the rebels. . .well the temporary official face of the rebels. Katniss is their Mockingjay, and I know that I can never replace her. She may not be Coin's Mockingjay, but to the citizen's of this nation she is. Yet my job is to act as a source of hope, for not only her rescue but for the future of Panem. However I have decided that I have many conditions before I accept this role.

I sit at breakfast alone today eating my mashed turnips and ponder these requests. First and most importantly is to work through a plan to rescue Katniss and the other victors held hostage in the Capitol. Next, I am desiring immunity for them because many people here are considering them as traitors now after Katniss requested to cease fire. Some people even suggested leaving them with the Capitol and stopping any attempt at a rescue. I am so far away from Katniss but this request will hopefully be a strong attempt in keeping her safe. These are my only two requests therefore, they must have no problems accepting them.

Just as I am about to leave the dining hall, Prim spots me and waves me over. She is sitting with some other nurses and a few patients who have been given the clearance to eat with the other citizens, one of them includes Finnick. He looks somewhat better, so I give him a friendly smile and he returns me one back before finishing his meal.

"Peeta, I'm glad I found you!" She exclaims. "I was worried because the guards almost found Buttercup yesterday."

I had almost forgot about my rescue of Prim's beloved cat, and how District 13 has a strict no pets policy.

"Don't worry Prim; I'll take care of it today." I say, reassuring her.

She hugs me quick and I make my way out of the hall.

By the time I arrive in Command, Coin, Plutarch, and all of their people are already assembled. I also notice Gale in the crowd, waiting to here my address. I take a seat at the table and grab a piece of paper to scribble my requests onto. I make sure to pencil in Prim's desire of keeping Buttercup in their quarters.

This is my only chance to really bargain with these people, so I know I have to be stern with my words.

"So after much consideration, I have come up with a reasonable plan." I begin. "I will take on this new role you have designed for me, being the so called _face_ for the rebels."

Everyone around the table exchanges smiles of relief and slap each other on the back. Coin is looking proudly at the others, as if showing them how smart she was is choosing me to rescue over Katniss. Everyone except for Gale, that is, who I know can tell I must have more to say.

"But- I have a few conditions I would like to discuss first." I interrupt.

The room becomes quieter as I smooth out my paper.

"Firstly, Primrose Everdeen gets to keep her pet cat." I state.

This first request that I assumed would be so simple sets of an argument right away. After what seems like hours, it is decided that Prim gets to keep Buttercup and will be moved to a new compartment near the top of 13 that contains a small window at the top that will allow Buttercup to come and go as he pleases. He will also be expected to feed himself and if he misses curfew, he will be locked out. If he has any security issues, he will be shot on sight.

I reluctantly agree and decide not to inform Prim of the last part of that deal.

"Next, I want to set up an official plan to rescue the remaining victors in the Capitol."

"A plan will be drawn up immediately, but when it will be put into action, we are not sure of. It is too dangerous right now." Coin replies.

"Fair enough," I reply back sternly.

I have one final request and for my first two, I have been very lenient. However, this one I know I will stand by no matter what.

"All of the victors in the Capitol; Katniss, Johanna, Annie, and Enobaria, will be pardoned and given total immunity when brought back to 13. No form of punishment will be delivered to any of them." I state, looking directly into the eyes of President Coin.

Her eyes gaze back up and meet my own.

"No." She replies flatly.

"Yes!" I shout back. "It is not their fault you didn't manage to scoop them out of the arena too."

"They'll be tried with the other war criminals and treated as justice sees fit." She says.

"They'll be granted immunity, or you can find a new face for this rebellion, because I promise you right now that I will not speak a word promoting the rebels until you personally promise in front of Thirteen's population that you will agree. You rescued you me because you wanted a voice, and I can assure you, you will not get mine until you promise their immunity."

My words hang in the air for a long moment and I only now realize that I am standing.

"That is exactly what we want," I hear Fulvia whisper to Plutarch, "that voice with a cloud of smoke and gunfire in the background; a perfect propo."

"Yes, it is perfect!" Plutarch replies.

I glare at them both, but am almost thankful for their remarks so that Coin will understand how powerful my words can be in this rebellion.

"What do you say, President?" asks Plutarch. "You could issue an official pardon given the circumstances."

"All right," Coin says finally, "but you'd better perform."

"I will, once you make an announcement." I reply.

"Call a national security assembly during Reflection today," she orders. "I'll make the announcement then."

I breath a sigh of relief.

"There is one other thing we wanted to discuss." Coin begins. "And it may seem odd, but it is actually rather important on how others view you during this rebellion."

I am puzzled, wondering what could possibly be this important that they feel the need to address it now.

"It involves both Peeta's and Gale's relationship with Katniss."

My mouth drops open and with one look at Gale, I can tell he wants to slap the words right out of Coin's mouth. How dare she question something so personal? Something that is clearly none of her business.

"What?" Is all I can manage to say.

"I think we should continue the current romance. A quick deflection from Peeta could cause the audience to lose sympathy for both Katniss and Peeta." Says Plutarch.

I can hear Gale choke on the glass of water that he's raised to his lips. I am shocked that they feel the need to discuss this topic with us.

"Agreed. So, on-screen, Gale can simply be portrayed as a fellow rebel. Is that all right?" Says Coin.

I just stare and her, and I'm pretty sure she repeats herself. "For Gale. Will that be sufficient?"

"We can can always work her in as your cousin," Fulvia says to Gale.

"We are not cousins!" Gale replies harshly.

"Right, but we should probably keep that up for appearances' sake on camera, and Peeta will continue to be presented as her lover." Plutarch says. "Off camera, I don't care what goes on. Anything else?"

I am so thrown off from by this conversation. I watch Gale get up without being excused and exit the room, slamming the doom behind him. The fact that Coin was that focused on the romance is chilling because it only reminds me on the Capitol.

"Our plan is to launch an Airtime Assault." Explains Plutarch, pulling me from my thoughts. "To make a series of what we call propos featuring you, and then broadcasting them to the entire population of Panem."

"How? The Capitol controls everything that is broadcast out to the citizens?" I question.

"But we have Beetee. About ten years ago, he essentially redesigned the underground network that transmits all the programming. He thinks there's a reasonable chance it can be done. Of course, we'll need something to air. So, Peeta, the studio awaits your presence."

Fulvia gives us a wave and Plutarch and I follow her out and down the hall.

The three of us board an elevator and begin to descend at least thirty plus levels down into the depths of the earth. When the metal doors swing open, there are multiple guards standing about the space and I instantly feel uneasy.

"Good morning, we were just looking for-" Plutarch begins.

"You have the wrong floor." The guard interrupts in a rather harsh tone.

"Really?" Plutarch glances as his notes. "I've got Three-Nine-Oh-Eight written right here. I wonder if you could just call up to-"

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave now. Assignment discrepancies can be addressed at the Head Office." The guard replies, pointing us back to the elevator.

The compartment of 3908 is only steps away from us and my mind instantly begins to wonder what is behind these doors that they are so desperately trying to keep from us.

Suddenly from behind the doors of 3908 comes a faint noise. It is only a tiny whimper, but my eyes instantly shift to the door. The guard reaches out to Plutarch, placing his hand onto his shoulder to lead him to the elevator doors and turning his back to me. This is my chance.

I sprint around the guard as fast as I can and burst through the free swinging door marked 3908 and find her. Clothes ripped apart, beaten, and restrained to the wall.

Portia.

* * *

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	5. Chapter 4

The sickening aroma of unclean human flesh, urine, and infection rushes through the air. The figure before me is almost unrecognizable. Her body looks much thinner and her skin hangs loosely from her bones. My stylist, Portia, who is usually so overly put together, now looks nothing like herself.

At the sight of me, Portia pushes her body back up against the wall almost as if anticipating that I will attack her. That simple retaliation is enough to show me how hurt she has been. The guards begin ordering me out, but I tune out their voices from my mind. Instead, I gently walk myself over to Portia and put my hand upon her icy cheek. I softly stroke it with my thumb to show her how I could never hurt her like this.

"Portia, what happened to you?" I ask, attempting to remain calm. "What are you doing here?"

"They took me from the Capitol." She replies hoarsely.

Plutarch enters from behind us. "What on earth in going on?"

"Who captured you?" I ask her.

"Some people." She replies vaguely. "The night you broke out of the arena."

"We thought it might be comforting for you to have your regular stylist." Plutarch says behind me.

"Comforting?" I shout at him. "How is this in any way comforting for me to see my stylist being treated like this! Why is she being treated like a criminal?"

"I honestly don't know." I'm not sure what it is, but there is something in Plutarch's voice that makes me believe him. He turns to the guard.

"I was only told she was being confined. Why is she being punished?"

"For stealing," replies the guard. "There was an altercation with some carrots."

Portia's hands grip onto mine. "No one would tell me anything, and I was just so hungry. I only took one small carrot." She explains weakly.

"It's alright, Portia. You did nothing wrong. I am going to make sure you get out of here!" I explain to her, tightening my grip on her shackled hands.

"This seems extreme," says Plutarch.

"You had no right to do this!" I reply, hollering at the guard.

Portia brings her hands to her face and I watch the shackles slide down her wrists, revealing fresh sores beneath them.

"I'm bringing you to the hospital." I assure her and she nods.

"Unchain her." I address the guard.

"I have not been authorized to follow through with that request." The guard replies.

"It was not a request, it was an order! Unchain her- now!" I retaliate.

This takes him aback and I can tell that citizens do not normally address him in such a manner. "I have no release orders. And you have no authority-"

"Do it on my authority," says Plutarch. "We came to collect her anyways. She is needed in special defence and I will take full responsibility."

The guard exits for a moment to make a call. When he returns, he has a ring of keys in his hand. I have to help Portia stand because she has been forced into tight body positions for so long that her legs are extremely stiff. When we exit the room, I notice the metal drain on the floor and concentrate on holding down my lunch when I imagine what a drain could possibly have been used for in here.

* * *

When we arrive in the hospital, I find Katniss' mother who is one of the few people I can trust to take care of Portia. She has been treating the ill of District 12 for years. I remember once when I was younger, probably only sevens years old or so, my oldest brother became sick with the chicken pox. My father took him to Mrs. Everdeen for healing. I remember begging him to let me tag along, but he was worried that any association with my brother would get my sick as well. At one point I tried to pretend to be ill in order for him to take me to the Everdeen home so I could get a glimpse of the healers eldest daughter; how love struck I was at such a young age. However Mrs. Everdeen has now been working as a nurse in the hospital ever since arriving in 13. Much like Prim, she channels her emotions into her work in order to keep herself from shutting down again.

"I'll take care of her, Peeta. You are not to worry." She informs me, giving me a small smile.

I hug her quickly. "Thank you." I do not think she even realizes how much this means to me.

"Of course."

I walk out of the hospital and my brain begins to spin. I understand exactly what Coin was doing when she captured Portia. She is trying to use her as a warning to me. That even though it was her who managed to pull me out of that arena, she will always be the one in control; the one who holds all the power.

After the days events, Plutarch releases me from Rebel duties for today. I am informed shortly after by Prim that Portia will be fine and has no lasting damages. Plutarch plans to get her working as early as tomorrow.

"Peeta, did you hear about the assembly?" Prim asks before I walk off to my compartment, hoping for some rest.

"No, I haven't? What's it about?" I ask. I have spent the majority of my day in Command and then with Portia. I have not been following my schedule at all.

"We're not sure, but some people are saying Coin has an announcement to make." She explains.

I nod my head and smile. I know this will be Coin's announcement of the conditions I created in order to become the face and mouth piece of this rebellion.

"I have a feeling I know what this will be about." I reply and Prim nods.

"Do you want to walk down with me, Prim?" I ask her, extending out my arm.

"I would," she begins, "but I have to help bring the patients down to the hall."

"I'll help you."

Prim leads me into the corridors and I find it interesting, yet promising, how even the people sick or injured in the hospital are encouraged to attend this assembly. The more witnesses to Coin's words the better. All of Thirteen should be aware of what I am about to do and the conditions I will lay forward.

When we arrive to the hospital I offer to take Finnick down because I had promised him I would return anyways to inform him about Annie. He is seated in a wheelchair when I find him with his rope not in his fingers, but on his lap.

"I told you I'd come back." I joke with him as I push the chair down the hall following Prim and Mrs. Everdeen as they help other patients as well.

"When are they rescuing them?" He asks me without hesitation.

"Soon." I tell him, even though I am not quite sure how soon, _soon_ really is.

"Why not now?" He asks again.

I breath in a deep sigh, honestly wondering the same thing. "They think it is too risky to go right now."

"Peeta…" Finnick begins, "I don't trust her."

I know immediately who Finnick is referring to. I am understanding exactly what he means because those were my exact thoughts when I first met Coin. It does not make sense to me why Katniss was not rescued. Myself, Beetee, and then Finnick managed to be saved, but not Katniss- the person who should have became the face of the rebellion. I feel like Snow got a hold of her a little too easily. Coin tries to say how she wishes Katniss was saved, but I have a hard time believing that.

"I know...I don't either."

Finnick and I do not say anything more.

When we enter the assembly room, it is packed with people. I stand with the hospital patients and workers. Coin begins to make her way up to the stage, but stops in front of me before continuing.

"Do you want to be up here with me for the announcement?" She asks me.

I shake my head. "No, I assumed you would be able to handle it by yourself. You are the president after all."

She stands there for a moment and narrows her eyes at me. I refuse to let my eyes leave hers, not letting her win even this small battle. And eventually, she turns away and continues to the stage. I realize that I almost desire making her regret pulling me from the arena instead of Katniss.

It does not take long for Coin to call upon the audience's attention and explain to them that I have agreed to become the face of this rebellion, especially while Katniss and the Capitol are calling for a cease fire. She tells them how I have requested pardon for the remaining victors in the Capitol. This causes a bit of uproar, mostly from the District 13 citizens and not so much from Twelve. I take in the hostile looks as they come my way with nothing but strength. I will not budge on this request and there is nothing these people can do to change that. No amount of intense stares or harsh words will make me regret it.

However, in typical Coin fashion she continues.

"But in return, soldier Mellark has promised to commit himself to the cause. It follows that any deviance from his mission, either by motive or deed, will be viewed as a break to this agreement. The immunity would be terminated and the fate of the four victors determined by the laws of District 13."

In other words, if I stray away from her plans, Katniss will be dead.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading! I hope you are enjoying this story! I know some of these chapters have been short but I promise you, as we get into the heart of Mockingjay they becoming much longer :) Make sure to follow me on twitter **_ TributeGirlEm_ **for updates and sneak peeks and also on my **_ TributeGirlEmma_** where you can ask me any questions you have about this story. I want to thank all of the amazing people who have followed and favourited this story! It really means a lot to me. Please take time to leave me a review because your comments are my greatest motivation and I love hearing your thoughts! Thanks again for reading and I will see you in a week or so XOX**


	6. Chapter 5

I lie in a warm bath filled with soap, letting the suds wash away all of my worries. However, I am kidding myself because I do not think there is anything powerful enough to make me stop thinking or worrying about Katniss.

I hear a knock at the door. "Peeta, can I come in?"

It is Portia, who is already up and out of the hospital, ready to make me over for my first propo shoot.

"Yes." I reply.

She enters the room and gives me a small smile. She is still frail, but her face has life back into it again. Her skin no longer sags on her bones and her eyes, no longer fearful. I sit myself up in the tub as Portia hands me a fresh white robe. I stand up and wrap it around myself, following her to the chair where I will be made over.

The mood in the room is stiff and I can tell Portia is not sure if she should say anything. It hurts me to know just how timid and held back she is now because of this. She once was so bubbly and energetic. We always had free flowing conversations and she never held much back from me. We trusted each other.

"How are you feeling Portia?" I ask.

"Better...thanks to you." She says gently.

"Well, you have done plenty for me over this past year; you don't need to thank me for anything."

She runs a brush through my hair. "Peeta, I'm just fortunate enough to be here with you still."

I nod my head, listening to the sudden emotion in her voice, when suddenly, something dawns on me.

"Portia, is Cinna in the Capitol with Katniss?" I ask, hoping that perhaps she will have someone she trusts still by her side. I know that they have had such a strong and comfortable relationship from day one, so having him by her side could possibly be her saving grace. However, Portia is only silent.

"Is he?" I ask again.

"Peeta, she didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Silence again.

"What happened to Cinna?" I almost shout, turning to her; searching her face for an answer.

"Peeta...Cinna died right before Katniss went into the arena. They beat him in front of her when she entered the tube."

Her words crash into me like punch to the gut. I can not even begin to fathom how she was capable of watching someone she cared for so greatly, killed right in front of her, and then to have to put on a brave face while entering the arena. I have always known how strong Katniss was, but right now, I understand it even more.

". . .Katniss never told me that." I reply, looking down at my hands folded into my lap.

"She would have, Peeta, because she cares for you. . .the arena was just not the place for that."

Hearing Portia tells me about Cinna and then about Katniss caring for me is just too overwhelming. I lift my hands to my eyes and cry. The tears flow from my eyes and I begin to taste the salt on my tongue. I feel Portia's arms protectively wrap around me and I suddenly feel like a small child again.

"I miss her, Portia. I don't deserve to be here right now." I choke out through my sobs.

Her hands run up and down my back, attempting to soothe me.

"But you do, Peeta, because no one will fight for her harder then you. You are her best chance of returning." She tells me in hushed tones.

I can only nod my head because in this moment, it seems like all of my abilities to use words have left me.

Portia helps calm me down and then begins my prep once I inform her that I am ready. I don't like breaking down in-front of her like this, so I pull myself together.

She makes my hair smooth and shiny again. She does not paint my face, but instead she creates a natural sort of glow. She then readies my black rebel outfit for me to change into after lunch.

When we walk into the dining hall, the majority of the citizens stare. They are not used to seeing anyone in Capitol attire within these walls. Although Portia is actually rather tame in comparison to the majority of the Capitol's residence, it is still considered completely outrageous here. Today, she is sporting her long yellow blonde hair with small strips of green layered in it. Her makeup is simple, besides some red lipstick and electric blue eyeliner. It is a sharp contrast to the gray outfit that even she is forced to wear.

We grab our trays and take a seat with some other citizens of District 12 including Gale, his family, and Prim. I sit myself next to Prim and across from Posy; Portia on my other side. Everyone greets us with smiles, but I can tell they feel rather uncomfortable.

It is five year old Posy who finally breaks the silence.

"Your hair is green? Is it sick?" She asks innocently. She reaches across the table and touches Portia's green locks.

"It's a trendy fashion thing, Posy. Kind of like wearing lipstick or nail polish." I inform her.

Posy's face turns into one of deep thought before she speaks again. "I think you'd be pretty in any colour." She says, taking a large bite of her roll.

"Thank you." Portia replies.

It is the first real smile I have seen from her since I have been here and I owe it all to this young child. It amazes me how someone so young and blunt was able to find the right words to say when no one else seemed to be able to.

When lunch is over, Gale and I rise at the same time to put our trays away. We end up walking side by side as I place my tray on the edge.

"Peeta, why do you care so much about your stylist?"

I am immediately taken aback. I look up at his face to see if he is joking, but instead he is frowning.

"Well, why shouldn't I?"

"I don't know maybe because they have spent the last year prettying you and Katniss up for slaughter?"

My mouth hangs open. "You know, Katniss' stylist was probably the only reason she kept sane during prep for the first games. I wish I could stand here and tell you that I was able to do that for her, but I couldn't. Cinna did and he died because he was protecting her. It is a lot more complicated than you think." I explain in as stern of voice as I can muster. I surprise myself by how offended I am at his words. Sure, they are from the Capitol, and sure, most of the citizens there seem brainless. Yet, Gale does not know Cinna or Portia, and he will never understand our relationship and connection with them.

"It is not some secret in the Capitol, what is going on, but they just accept it anyways." He bounces back.

"They do what they can Gale. Both Katniss and my stylist deserve some of the credit for our survival."

"You're actually defending them."

"Yes, I actually am." I reply, almost slamming my silverware into one of the white bins.

I storm of away from him, motioning for Portia to join me. Gale and I are both very opinionated people who have beliefs that we hold faithfully to, and every so often, those beliefs clash, and today was one of those days. I remove myself from the situation before something unnecessary is said or done.

My avoidance of Gale does not last very long, however, because we are both called down to the special weaponries room to see Beetee. We will be given a few weapons that will attempt to catch the eyes of the audience when we film our propo.

"Aw, Gale, Peeta: it is great to see you both." Beetee exclaims as he wheels himself over to us as we enter the weapons area. "I think you are going to be very pleased with what we have created."

He leads us down a narrow hall where we enter several security checks and identification screening. Then we are finally allowed to enter into the official armory. The area is completely different then anything I could have imagined. There are multiple rows loaded with fire arms, explosives, tanks, launchers, even aircraft's. There is also a large wall filled with different bows and arrows. They remind me of Katniss.

However, these are not just your average bow and arrow sets. They are much more deadly than that. Some are equipped with grenade launchers, scopes, and every gadget you could imagine, many I do not even recognize.

"Gale, maybe you'd like to try out a few of these," says Beetee.

"Seriously?" Gale asks.

"You'll be issued a gun for battle of course, but if you are going to be in some of the propos, this might be a little showier. I thought you might like to find one that suits you."

Gale walks towards the wall of weapons and reaches for the deadliest looking bow on the wall. He hoists it onto his shoulder and begins to peer into the scope.

"Doesn't seem very fair to any animals." I say with a chuckle.

"I wouldn't be using it on animals, would I?" He answers.

_I guess not._

I don't bother telling him about the aftermath of taking another person's life and how it will never truly leave you.

"Peeta, I was not sure what type of weapon we should use for you, so I think it would be best if we just experiment with multiple different types."

Beetee starts with a simple sword, but it makes me anxious just holding it in my hands. It reminds me to much of Cato; the boy from my first games, and his gruesome end. How I was the one to push him off of the ledge to his death. The sounds of his cries as the life was sucked out of his body. A memory I wish I could forget.

We try spears, clubs, even bow and arrows; but we settle on an unloaded rifle instead. Guns have never been allowed in the arenas, so I do not have any violent memories with them. I still feel uncomfortable holding it though. Beetee shows me the proper way to position it over my shoulder with a strap when it is not in use.

When we return back to Portia for the propo filming, I get into my back rebel outfit and do some last minute touch ups, including placing a fake bloody bandage across my forehead to make it look like I have just come out of a war zone.

"Alright Peeta, the task for this propo is very simple." Begins Cressida, who is the media relations person for 13. "You are just going to stand in the middle and read the line off of the teleprompter."

I am brought onto the small set as the fake smoke machine comes on. I hear Plutarch yell out "Action!"

I swing my rifle over my shoulder and with as much confidence and anger as I can gather, I read my single line.

"People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!"

I take in a large breath and the smoke lingers around my face.

"Cut!" Cressida calls out.

"That was very well done, Peeta." Plutarch adds patting me on the back.

I nod my head. I was really expecting them to inform me of how awful it sounded, because to me, it sounded completely forced. I sounded nothing like myself and in my opinion, completely unbelievable and non-motivating.

"That was well done," Coin says as she enters the set room door.

"Are you kidding me! The boys got a lot more in him than that!" Says Haymitch as he steps into the room right behind her.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading! I really hope you are enjoying! Be sure to leave me a review of your thoughts and hopes for future chapters! You can follow me on twitter TributeGirlEm or ask me questions about the story on my TributeGirlEmma . Thank you again for reading and I will see you next week! XO**


	7. Chapter 6

To be honest, I was rather surprised to hear Haymitch speaking yesterday. I guess I just assumed that he was far off from reality due to severe withdraw. However, I know that despite the encouragement from the others, he is the only one that is actually accurate about my performance yesterday. I am well aware that I have the capability to use my words to move people and to perhaps even add my own flames to this rebellion. My ability to use words is a gift that has helped both Katniss and I throughout everything. But even I know that when I am scripted, it is not nearly as genuine as it could be.

I think back to the Victory Tour in District 11 when I read off a speech to Rue. That speech came from feeling and emotion that was swelling up inside of me. It was driven by passion, sorrow, and anger. That speech moved people. Yet, after that, Effie made sure I stuck to her cards because the spark of rebellion in District 11 was what we were trying to avoid. When I am scripted, I lose that spark. However, now we are not in District 11 trying to prevent a rebellion; we are the rebels of District 13 attempting to rally the nation against its greatest enemy.

It took most of the morning for Haymitch to convince the others of this. I do not see what was so complicated for them to understand. It all seemed rather obvious to me. How can they expect these speeches to be genuine when they are not even my own beliefs and ideas?

I try to avoid looking Haymitch in the eyes. This is the first time we have been together since arriving here, and I am still not sure how I feel about him. He looks ill. He has clearly lost weight and his skin appears to have a light yellow tone to it. I have to force myself not to feel so concerned for someone I am not even sure I trust.

Haymitch plays back the footage shot. I appear on the screen looking strong and powerful with that useless gun draped over my shoulder. I speak clearly and with purpose, but anyone who has seen me speak before can tell how awful it is in comparison.

"Alright," Haymitch begins after turning the propo off, "I think we can all agree that this little speech here may be able to intrigue a few people in multiple undecided districts. However, will it be able to win us the war? Absolutely not!"

Everyone around the table glances at each other; some nod their heads. Plutarch begins writing things down on a clipboard in front of him.

"Now, I want you to think of a time where Peeta Mellark's words have moved you."

A woman from the Seam named Levey speaks up first. "When he donated a month of his winnings to the District 11 families. . . and gave that speech about the young girl."

I give her a small smile; the exact situation I was thinking of before this.

"How about when he volunteered to take your place at the reaping?" Gale chimes in.

Clearly, our past argument has been forgotten and I instantly feel thankful for that because I hate seeing Gale as an enemy. I have enough enemies to deal with so I would much prefer to see him as an ally any day.

"Wonderful example; volunteers for me to save Katniss." Haymitch adds on the white board.

"For me, it was when he gave Katniss that locket on the beach." Portia says, her eyes becoming glossy.

I smile at her as well , and also at the memory, wishing instantly to be able to hold Katniss like that again. I also begin hoping that she still has that necklace with her; a reminder of her family to hang on to. But a part of me knows that perhaps that is rather wishful.

"How about when he held onto that morphling woman before she died, making sure she wasn't left alone?" Boggs, Coin's assistant, chimes in.

"Very nice!" Haymitch exclaims.

The list continued until Haymitch has filled up the large whiteboard with everyone's comments.

"So, clearly, there is one thing all of these moments have in common." Haymitch says.

"They were unscripted." Explains Beetee.

"Exactly, you pulled this boy out of that arena because of his capability to move nations with his words, so why the hell would you feed him those lines of garbage? You left Katniss behind because of the soul reason of this boy's mouth; don't waste that." Haymitch states bluntly.

Everyone in the room goes silent. All they can do is stare up at the white board filled with all of their ideas.

"Unfortunately, his opportunities for this are rather limited in 13." Plutarch finally says.

"Unless you are planning to throw him into some kind of actual combat." Fluvius adds with a chuckle.

"That's exactly what I am planning on doing. Get him out there and keep the cameras rolling; let him interact with the people."

Coin backfires instantly. "There is no guarantee of his safety. He will be the target of-"

"I'm going." I finally chime in. I am so tired of people trying to decide these things for me. "I am no help to the rebels here."

"What if you're killed?" Coin says.

"Well, then you better rescue Katniss, because someone has to be the face of this rebellion, and for some reason, you chose me. So now it's only fair that I am put to use"

"Alright." Coin says. "Find the least dangerous area and hopefully we can get something out of him." She walks around Command, studying the maps. "Take him to eight this afternoon; they had a bombing already this morning, so they should be pretty quiet after that. I want him armed with a squad and camera crew on the ground. Haymitch will be airborne and in contact with Peeta."

And with that, Coin ends the meeting. Haymitch asks if he can have a word with me privately.

"We're going to have to work together again, so you may as well just go out and say it." He states.

I think of slapping him straight in the face here, but ultimately, decide against it. Words have clearly always been my best weapon anyways.

"We made a deal and you vowed that you would save her over me. I can't believe you didn't fight harder to rescue her."

"I know." Is his reply.

"Your turn." I tell him.

"I can't believe you let her out of your sight on that night." He says flatly.

There is a pain inside my chest because I know what he is saying is completely and utterly true. I should have never let her leave me and for that, I do take some blame.

"I know." I reply. "I relive that moment over and over again in my head every night."

We are silent for a long time. I study his dark grey eyes that seem even more worn these days.

"She's not dead yet, Peeta."

I only nod my head, because the word '_yet'_ terrifies me.

* * *

Eventually, I am instructed to go down to weaponry to see Beetee. Here, I am suited with special armour for combat. I am given a helmet that fits tightly over my head and a vest to slip over my chest. It contains extra protection over my heart and other vital organs. Beetee informs me of how Portia and Cinna had designed everything. Finally, he hands me a rifle similar to the one I had for the propo.

"The safety is currently on. If you need it use the scope, it is relatively easy to shoot."

He makes me take a few practice shots and surprisingly, I hit my target after a few practices. However, I know that if there was a living, breathing human in front of me, pulling the trigger would be much different.

Boggs is the one to escort me down to the airborne division. The elevator arrives and suddenly Finnick appears in a state of panic.

"Peeta, they won't let me go! I told them I'm fine, but they won't even let me ride in the hovercraft!"

I look at Finnick for a moment. His legs are bare and he stands in only a hospital gown; his hair tangled and eyes widened. Even I have a hard time agreeing that he should be taken. So instead, I come up with a plan.

"Oh, Finnick, I totally forgot! I was supposed to inform you to go to special weaponry because Beetee has a special trident made specifically for you."

The word trident immediately intrigues him.

"Really? What does it do?"

"I don't know, but if it is anything like the other weapons down there, it is sure to be amazing," I say. "You'll have to do some training with it of course."

"Right, of course. I'd better get down there!" He says.

"Finnick?" I say. "Perhaps some pants would help…"

He looks down at his bare legs, as if noticing his outfit for the first time. Then, he whips off his hospital gown, leaving him in just his underwear.

"You know, many people find this attractive." He states, striking an extremely provocative pose.

However, I cannot help but laugh because it reminds me of the Finnick I'd first met; when he offered Katniss some sugar cubes and I became worried there would be another man looking for the attention of the woman I loved. How wrong I was back then.

Boggs and I just laugh when the elevator doors close, leaving Finnick behind. I begin to realize that perhaps Boggs is someone I can trust. However, he just seems too close and in tune with Coin, and she is one who definitely can not be trusted.

The elevator begins to move in sideways motions. "It is taking us to the Hanger." Boggs explains.

District 13 is clearly much larger in scale than I originally had believed. There are still so many areas that I have not been authorized to see yet.

When the doors open again, my mouth drops open slightly. There are rows upon rows of different hovercrafts.

"How did 13 get all these?" I question, examining the fleet.

"Some we manufactured ourselves. Some were part of the Capitol's air forces. They have been updated, of course." Boggs says.

In my mind, all I can think of is how they had all of these large pieces of equipment, but sat back and let the rest of us suffer for seventy-five years.

"Over here, soldier Mellark." He indicates, pulling me away from my thoughts and onto a smaller hovercraft.

When I climb the stairs, a full camera crew is waiting for me. Everyone else, including Haymitch, is dressed in the matching 13 military jump suits.

Fulivia scurries over to Boggs and I as we go to take our seats.

"Some of us think Gale should be featured in one of the next propos; he has a very camera ready face." Fulvia states with a blush.

Boggs and I only nod.

"I'm surprised Katniss hasn't snagged him up for herself yet." She adds with a chuckle.

I force myself to take a breath and remain seated. I try to think of some sort of comeback when Boggs chimes in: "Well, don't expect us to be to impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear."

I decide right then in that moment that I can go ahead and trust Boggs.

I take my seat by the window next to Haymitch with Gale and Boggs seated across from us. The hovercraft slowly rises in some sort of elevator-like contraption until we are outside and surrounded by green pine trees. I think of how Katniss would have loved this view of the forest right now.

The next thing I know, we've taken off and I am trapped within the clouds as the hovercraft soars through the air. I take a moment to examine the colours and patterns around me. Clouds are a hard thing to perfect as a painter and I am rarely ever this close to them. I used to think clouds were just white, but after multiple failed attempts I realized how wrong I was. Hints of gray, blue, and even lilac come together to create every shape of a cloud. They are each so different, yet so magnificent at the same time.

Once we have reached our cruising altitude above the cloud line, Plutarch begins explaining the state of the war and what I could possibly face down in District 8.

Apparently, every district is at war with the Capitol, expect 2, which is really no surprise there; they have always had the favoured relationship. They receive more food than the rest of us and have better living conditions; a big reason why there tributes are always so strong.

"Our goal is to first take over each District, ending with two. Once they are all on board, we will invade the Capitol. But we will cross that bridge when we get to it."

"So, who will be in charge of the government if we win?" Gale asks.

"Everyone." Plutarch tells him. "We're going to form a republic where the people of each district and the Capitol can elect their own representatives to be their voice. It's worked before."

"In books." Haymitch mutters.

"In history books!" says Plutarch. "And if our ancestors could do it, than we can too."

"And if we lose?" I add this time.

Plutarch looks out into the clouds and an interesting grin appears across his face. "Then, I would expect next year's Hunger Games to be quite unforgettable. Which reminds me," he takes a tube from his vest and shakes it until two deep violet pills fall into his hands, "we named them in both you and Katniss' honour." Plutarch begins speaking directly to me. "The rebels can't afford for any of us to be captured now. But I promise, it will be completely painless."

I take hold of the tiny pill, unsure of where to place it. Clearly I can not go around with it in my hand. Plutarch taps a spot on my shoulder at the front of my left sleeve. I look and find a small pocket that will store and hide the pill. Even if I was put into a situation where my hands were tied I could still easily bite it free.

Cinna and Portia have thought of everything.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading! I hope you are getting a feel for this story and are understanding that I am trying to keep it pretty close to the Mockingjay plot. Thank you to all the lovely people who have been favouriting, following, and reviewing! Your comments mean so much to me! Make sure to follow me on twitter for updates and sneak peeks TributeGirlEm and on my where you can ask me any questions you have about this story TributeGirlEmma .Thank you again for reading ad I will see you all next week! XO**

**ALSO: For my Guarding Daisies Readers- There will most likely be a new one-shot going up within the next few days so stay tuned! **


	8. Chapter 7

When the hovercraft lands in District 8, myself and my crew prepare to make a quick exit. The group consists of Boggs, Gale, and two other soldiers. There is also my TV crew that is made up of Cressida, who has green vines tattooed onto her shaved head, and her assistant Messalla: a slim man with several sets of piercings. There are also two camera men dressed in shell-like equipment, ready to film my every move.

We follow Boggs as he speeds down grey side-streets. When we emerge onto main street, it is like entering a world I have never seen before; something I wish I didn't have to see. There are people being lifted onto makeshift stretchers, some even being carried by hand to the large warehouse building with the letter H plastered on the front of it. Many are missing limbs or are bleeding intensely. The cries they make are enough to make me sick. Everyone from children to the elderly are injured and they are being wheeled into the hospital by the dozen.

I realize that this is exactly the place they plan on filming me.

A younger woman with tired, dark brown eyes strides over to us; sweat is beating down her temples. There is a bandage around her throat that is soaked in red blood. She carries an automatic weapon on her back. With one jerk of her thumb, she orders medical assistance into the warehouse and they quickly comply.

"This is Commander Paylor of Eight," says Boggs.

I instantly feel out of place standing in my brand new outfit, with not even a scratch on my body. I realize I must look pathetic to all of these people.

"Solider Mellark," she says shaking my hand. "You're alive then. We weren't sure."

"I'm still breathing." I reply, trying to comprehend the interesting tone hidden in her voice.

"Been in recovery," Boggs begins, "but he insisted on coming to see your wounded."

"Well, we have plenty of those." Paylor replies.

"You think this is a good idea?" Gale asks, frowning at the hospital. "Assembling your wounded like this?"

"I think it's slightly better than leaving them to die," says Paylor.

"That's not what I meant." Gale replies, defending himself.

"Well, this is currently my only option. But if you come up with a third and get Coin to back it, I'm all ears." She walks forward and waves us to the door.

I am clearly not prepared for what is awaiting me inside of this makeshift hospital. Rows upon rows of dying bodies lie on small wooden beds. Behind another curtain, I see more rows of dead corpses and force my eyes away in fear that I may just break down.

"We have a mass grave started. I just haven't got the manpower to move them yet." Paylor explains, referring to the bodies.

As we step further into the hospital, all of my senses take a beating. I try to stop myself from gagging, but that seems to be an extremely hard task. The smell of dead flesh, vomit, and soiled sheets fill my nose. Combined with the heat of the building, the smell alone is enough to knock me unconscious. Some people are lying on the ground, swatting away the flies simply because there is just no room for all of these people. Too many have been hurt. I hear the cries of pain from the injured and the panicked sobs of loved ones. I think back to the Quarter Quell when my heart stopped beating from the forcefield shock. After Finnick's success in reviving me, I woke up to a sobbing Katniss above. This is what I see now, but times one hundred.

I try to remember to breathe through my mouth and force my legs to step onward. Firstly, however, I lift my gun off of my shoulder and hand it to Boggs. These people do not need to see me sporting a fancy weapon. That is not what I am to them. Violence has been my nature, I handle my greatest battles with words.

"Peeta?" A voice croaks out to my left. "Peeta?" A hand extends for me out of the fog. I cling back to it looking for the human connected to the rough flesh. It is a young woman with an injured leg. There are flies buzzing around her bandages which are soaked with blood. In her face, I see pain; but I notice that there is something else there too. Hope.

"Is it really you?"

"Yes, it is me. I'm glad to see you." I tell the woman as if I have known her for an extended period of time.

Joy radiates from her face and for a moment, the suffering fades.

"You're alive! We didn't know. People said you were, but we didn't know!" She exclaims.

I give her a genuine smile. "Yes, well, I got pretty banged up as well; both physically and mentally if I'm being honest. But I got better over time, as will you." I brush the wet hair away from her face and give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I've got to tell my brother!" The woman attempts to sit up and calls to someone a few beds down. "Eddy! Eddy! He's here! It's Peeta Mellark."

I watch as a little boy, perhaps only eleven years old, turn to us. Bandages cover half of his face. I walk over to him and place my hand onto his cheek. It is burning with a fever. He can't speak, but his eyes are trained on me.

"Hi Eddy," I begin, "I'm glad I got to meet you today. I'm sorry that this has happened to you. . .but I'll let you in on a secret: I'm going to make sure that horrible things like this don't happen anymore. We are going to change things so that kids like you can be safe."

He doesn't reply, but a single tear falls down from his eye. I smile at him again and take his hand into mine, placing a small kiss onto the top on his head.

I begin to hear my name flowing through the crowds of people. I realize that it will become impossible to speak to everyone so directly, but I make an effort to walk to every hospital bed. I grasp the hands that are extended to me and speak out healing words of encouragement. I greet people, let them know that they are not alone. My words and my presence alone seem to encourage people.

Eager hands grab my arms or feel my hair. One elderly lady with a missing leg takes my face between her hands and kisses me directly on the mouth. I am taken aback initially, but instead reach my hand to her cheek and thank her.

Many people are also eager to ask me about Katniss. Some see how her name alone causes me great emotion, so they attempt to assure me that she is alright. And somehow, their words seem to speak to me when others could not. Perhaps it is the fact that even though they are so hurt themselves, they still manage to see if I am alright. These people are selfless and I know now that I must fight for them…and for Katniss. We are all allies. One weeping woman tells me how sorry she is for the miscarriage we experienced and I want to come clean to her and tell her it was just a lie, but that would be telling her that Katniss is a liar, which would definitely not help her image.

I realize here how many people truly care for my life. These people are knocking on death's door, but are still more concerned with my well-being than their own. I figure it is because this is the first sign of rebellion; the first sign of hope that these people have seen, so they cling to that.

As I reach the back of the hospital, I walk up on a large table and wave a final goodbye to these people. However, I know they deserve more than a simple wave. They deserve my words, and that is exactly what they will get.

"People of District 8, I want you all to know that no matter where I am, no matter where Katniss is, that we are with you! Together we will rise and defeat the true enemy at hand. No longer will they pin us against each other; we will rally as one. My heart goes out to each and every one of you. You do not deserve what has happened here. You deserve to be free; your children deserve to be free. Out of suffering always emerges the strongest of souls."

I step down from the table and for the first time since arriving, I remember that I am being filmed. The eyes of my crew are all on me, and they just stare.

Gale is the first to speak. "You did great."

I'm not really sure what great is, all I know is that I just followed what my gut seemed to tell me to do.

"We got some great stuff in there." Adds Cressida.

"Is it like this everywhere?" I ask Boggs.

"Yes. Most are under attack. We're trying to get aid wherever we can, but it's not enough."

Suddenly, a buzz begins in my ear piece and I begin to hear Haymitch's voice for the first time since landing here.

"Get to the airship! Immediately!" He hollers.

"What's wrong?" Gale asks first.

"Incoming bombers." Boggs says and he lifts my helmet to cover more of my head. "Let's move!"

We take off running away from the warehouse, heading down the alley towards the hovercraft. However, despite the panic, I do not see any immediate threat. People around us carry on with whatever they were previously doing, until the sirens begin to blare. Within seconds, a low flying formation of Capitol airships appear and begin raining bombs down on the district. I am blown off my feet and land directly on my back. The wind is completely knocked out of me. I attempt to stand, but Boggs pushes my body back down and shields me with his own. I feel the ground vibrate as the bombs land.

"Peeta! We can't land during the bombing!" Haymitch's voice echoes into my ears. "But it is imperative that you are not spotted."

"They don't know I'm here?" I ask.

"We don't think so; it is presumed that this was a scheduled bombing."

Suddenly, Plutarch's voice sounds. "There is a blue warehouse three down from you. It has a bunker in the far north corner. Can you get there?"

"We'll do our best." Boggs replies.

I look around and see that the others are beginning to get back onto their feet. Gale is up with his bow and arrows already loaded; the other two soldiers with guns in hand.

"You have forty-five seconds until the next wave." Plutarch tells us.

My body is sore, but I keep moving. Boggs takes the lead and I follow close behind as he hands me my rifle back. Unlike my team, I strap it over my shoulder instead of removing its safety. My boots grip the ground wonderfully, allowing me to move quickly and efficiently. I spot the bunker up ahead, just as the next wave hits.

I launch myself against a grey building and shield my face between my hands and knees, my back facing upwards. Partly to protect myself, partly to keep me from being spotted.

"You alright?" Boggs asks as he crawls his way over to me.

"Yeah, they haven't seen me. They aren't even following us." I state.

"No, they have targeted something else." He adds, breathing heavily.

I do not even need to ask because I hear Gale's holler confirm my first instinct.

"The Hospital!" He yells. "They're going after the hospital!"

"Not your problem," says Plutarch firmly. "Get to the bunker."

"There is nothing in there but wounded; how could they ever be a threat?" I question.

Suddenly, I watch Gale dash away from the group and sprint closer to the hospital. He instructs the other two soldiers to follow him.

"Peeta, don't you even think about it!" Haymitch exclaims.

I pull the piece from the ear and begin to follow Gale and the others, sprinting as fast as my feet will take me. I catch up to them as they reach a building where the sound of machine guns explodes from above. Someone up there is firing back.

"Climb!" Gale orders and so I do, up the access ladder and onto the roof of the building. I hear the sound of his boots below me connect with someone's face and I guess that it belongs to Boggs, who is most likely trying to pull me out of this situation. I pull Gale up behind as I reach the top.

"Does Boggs know you're up here?" To our left I see Paylor standing behind one of the large guns.

"He knows, whether he is alright with it is another story though." I tell her and she only laughs.

"Have you been trained on these?" She questions, motioning to her gun.

"I have!" Gale says. "But I would rather use my own weapons." He holds out his bow and both him and Paylor get into position.

In these moments, I consider taking hold of a gun myself. I spot them. Heading towards the Hospital are three young children. They do not understand that if they continue, they will be running into their deaths. I dash over to the ladder on the other side of the building and begin climbing down. The others are too occupied with their weapons that I do not bother telling them. I try to keep myself tucked beside the building as I chase after the young children. As I get closer to them, I can see how a young, dark-haired female who looks maybe eleven years old is carrying a young toddler in her arms; a young girl. Beside her is a boy who is perhaps seven or so with tears in his eyes, trying to escape.

I grab onto the older girl's shoulder and she screams. In the distance, I can see the bombs beginning to drop.

"No, it's alright!" I tell her. "I'm here to help you. My name is Peeta."

Her face calms down for a moment and I can tell that she recognizes me.

"Follow me!" I holler, leading them down another alley away from the hospital. I notice how the older girl is struggling to carry the toddler in her small arms, so I reach out my hands and she instantly hands her to me.

"Hi sweetheart. Everything is going to be okay!" I tell this small child as I cover her head with my hand. All of these children look similar with their dark-brown hair and ice blue eyes.

We continue running until we arrive back at the building where Gale and Paylor are firing from. I bring them here simply because this building also has a bunker. I open the ground door and motion for the children to get inside.

The area inside is small and dusty; it clearly has not been in use for a long time. I turn on the small emergency light and examine the children closely for the first time.

The older girl is obviously frightened, but she hides it well. The boy is crying, so I pull him closer to me with the youngest girl laying on my lap.

"Where are your parents?" I ask, hoping to find out some information to help these children.

"We got separated from our father after our mother was killed." The girl tells me.

"When did this happen?"

"Yesterday." She states.

These children are too young and too innocent to have lost their mother like this. They have seen too much for their young eyes and they don't deserve that.

"I'm going to help you find your father; you're not to worry." I tell them.

"Why is this happening?" The boy asks through his tears.

_Because of my actions in the arena,_ is my initial thought, but I keep those words inside of my mouth.

"Because the Capitol is trying to defend itself." I explain. "We are fighting back for the first time to try to make things better."

"I'm scared." He adds.

"I'm not going anywhere." I assure him. "Why don't you tell me your names?" I attempt to change the subject.

I learn that the oldest girl's name is Laya, the boy Brac, and the youngest girl is Skylar. The bunker is tall enough for all three of them to stand in, but I am forced onto my knees or to crawl because the ceiling is too low. There are two small shelves against the back wall. I examine them and find a warm container of water, matches, and a can of black paint. I take the container of water and take a sip out of it first, making sure it is drinkable before giving it to the children; the ones who truly need it. I also give the matches to Laya because I'm sure she could find some use for them.

Suddenly, the sound of more bombs begin and we can hear the shrieks of pain coming from outside. Both Brac and Skylar are crying now.

"Have you guys ever painted before?" I ask, lifting up the old can of black paint and crawling over to them.

"No." Laya replies as she clutches her younger sister's hand.

"Well, then this is a perfect time to learn." I tell them, opening the can of paint and squatting down onto my knees.

The children are still very fearful of the sounds that are being produced from outside, so my goal is to distract them from the ongoing horrors. I dip my fingers into the cool, charcoal coloured paint and begin smearing it onto the cement wall in front of me. My fingers move together creating a picture that I was unsure of when I began. But everything here is so evil and destructive that these children deserve to see something peaceful. I re-dip my fingers into the paint and continue swirling the colour in front of me.

With only one colour and no tools, it is not the most elaborate piece I have ever created, but perhaps the most influential.

In front of me, I have created a silhouette of three small children in a grassy meadow. Around them are pine trees and a sky that is filled with sunshine and large puffy clouds. I imagine these children to be safe and without a worry of being killed by war.

"See the beauty one old can of paint can create!" I exclaim, turning to them. They all have their eyes trained onto my creation as if it is the most spectacular thing they have ever seen.

"Pretty!" Skylar squeals as she toddles her way over to me.

"Thank you, Skylar. Do you want to try?" I ask, placing her directly onto my lap.

She nods her head, so I dip my hand back into the paint and smear the colour all over her tiny hand until her pale skin is covered in the black colour. I watch her face brighten and turn into a smile as she comes into contact with the cool liquid. I grab the back of her hand and gently press it up against the wall, pressing her fingers against it slowly.

"Alright, now pull your hand away carefully and watch what you have made." I instruct.

She studies her hand and then ever so carefully begins pulling it away from the wall. When her tiny hand print is revealed, she begins to laugh; the sound is so energizing that it somehow gives me strength.

"You're an amazing artist, Skylar!" I tell her, poking her gently in the belly. She giggles again.

I repeat the same with all of the children until their tears turn into smiles and the outside noises are forgotten because their laughter is too loud. I had forgotten how powerful art can be for people. I learned this with the morphlings from the Quarter Quell and these three children are only reminding me of it again. Art is not simply about fancy painting and elegant designs; it is about the story and its abilities to enable us to become something we perhaps forgot we could be. We continue with the paint until every wall is covered with hand prints and children's creations.

Just as the can of paint becomes empty, I hear a voice calling in the distance.

"Laya! Where are you? Brac! Skylar!" It is a man's voice and he is clearly searching for them.

"Daddy!" Hollers Brac as he is immediately up on his feet.

Relief fills my body at the hope that perhaps these children's father is close. I open the bunker door and peer out into the distance. Above me, I can see Gale and the camera crew. I assume that they are now looking for me. I pull the children up from the bunker as the sound of the man's voice becomes louder. The children take off at the sight of a tall man with similar dark hair and ratted clothing. They launch themselves into his arms and I can't help but smile at the beauty in front of me. In a war zone, it is rare to find something this spectacular.

"Thank you." The man mouths these words to me as he hugs the children over his shoulder.

"Peeta!" Now I hear my name being called from above and realize that it is Gale's voice calling me. I walk away from the children knowing that for now they are as safe as the can be with someone who will take care of them. However, I also know that those three faces, are ones that I will never forget.

I climb the ladder back to the building Gale is on and for the first time see the horror that I have missed while in the bunker. What is left of the hospital is up in flames as people run from the area frantically. Everyone inside are near the hospital is dead from the fire bombs, it is clear that there will be no survivors.

"How could they do that? Why would they target people who are already dying?"

"To scare others off; prevent the wounded from seeking help," says Gale. "Those people you met, they were expendable. To Snow, anyway. If the Capitol wins, what will it do with a bunch of damaged slaves?"

I think of all those faces I saw, the hands I touched, everyone of them gone. I think of Eddy and his sister; how their lives were cut way too short, and all because of President Snow. I let out a loud scream because the thought of this man taking anymore lives, especially more children lives, is sickening.

"President Snow just aired the bombing live as a message to rebels." Cressida explains. "Is there anything you would like to say Peeta?"

I nod my head and the camera turns to me.

"I want everyone to know that I am alive and still fighting for this cause. I am currently here in District 8 where we have just witnessed the Capitol's firebombs obliterate a hospital filled with innocent and unarmed victims, many of them children. No one inside will survive. Citizens of Panem, if you believe the Captiol is promoting equality for us, then you are mistaken. They are the enemy and we shall no longer be pieces in their evil and twisted games. Rebellion is when you look society in the face and say, 'I understand who you want me to be, but I am going to show you who I actually am.' This is who we are and the fire inside us all is catching. President Snow, if we burn, you will burn with us."

My words hang in the air as I struggle to catch my breath.

"Cut!" Cressida yells, pulling me back to reality and giving me a nod of approval. "That's a wrap!"

* * *

**WOOO! I tried to pack a lot of action into this chapter so I really hope you enjoyed! I am anxious to hear your thoughts because I had to re write a lot of this chapter to make it more fitting for Peeta's character. Make sure to follow me on twitter TributeGirlEm for updates and sneak peeks! I will see you all next Saturday XO**


	9. Chapter 8

The next thing I know, Boggs is gripping my arm and I notice the swelling in his face that Gale's boot has left. He instructs me to run, so I decide that after multiple situations of disobedience, I should comply. Together, the crew sprints to the landing strip where the hovercraft is waiting for us. Everyone hops onboard and the door closes, concealing us from District 8.

Suddenly, Haymitch is at my side with his hands crossed in front of his chest. He grabs my vest roughly and pushes me down into one of the hovercraft seats.

"Your earpiece was given to you for a reason. I will give you exactly one more chance to wear it before I have you permanently fitted with one so that you can hear my voice twenty-four hours a day."

"I'll keep the piece in." I reply; the thought alone making me shudder.

"You better." He begins. "We always thought your were more compliant than Katniss, but right now, it doesn't seem so."

I just roll my eyes. He meant that as an insult, but to me, being compared to Katniss in this way was more of a compliment.

The hovercraft ride home is silent. Nobody feels like speaking. When we land in 13, I go straight to my compartment without even associating with anyone. For once, my body actually feels exhausted and ready for sleep. The moment my head hits the pillow, I am out.

* * *

"They want us in Command." Hollers a coarse, familiar voice jolting me from sleep.

I open my eyes slowly, rubbing my face. Haymitch now stands before me. "Go away." I murmur.

"We're wanted in Command. Coin's orders. So either you walk or I drag you there." He rebuttals.

I groan and make myself rise. I know Coin is most likely going to punish me for my risky performance yesterday. Yet I force myself up, not wanting to cower from her.

Haymitch and I walk to Command together and are greeted by our crew, along with Plutarch and an unhappy Coin. Instantly, I feel concerned. Surely she is unhappy about my performance yesterday and I only now begin to worry that I may have stripped Katniss of the little protection I was able to give her. So instead, I take a seat next to the two camera men from the crew.

"You know after everything we have been through yesterday, I have still yet to learn your names." I say as I settle into my seat.

"I'm Castor, and this is my brother Pollux," says the one with close bitten nails. They both have the same sandy hair, red beards, and blue eyes.

I stare a Pollux for a moment, wondering why he is not speaking for himself. But there is something about the position of his lips and the extra effort he seems to be taking to swallow. I realize then that Pollux must be an avox. The Capitol has cut out his tongue and he will never speak again. I wonder what he has done to make the Capitol do this to him. Yet, I no longer have to wonder about his motives to side with the rebels.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both." I reply, shaking their hands.

"Our Airtime Assault has officially launched. For any of you who missed yesterday's twenty-hundred broadcast of our first propo, or the seventeen reruns Beetee has managed to air since, we will begin by replaying it."

So they managed to use my footage after all…and use it seventeen times. I can't help but feel a little proud. Coin dims the lights and the television flashes on.

At first, the screen is dark until a small spark flickers in the middle. It grows, spreads, slightly eating away at the darkness until the entire screen is in a firey blaze. It is almost as if I can feel real heat coming from the screen. A quick image of Katniss' mockingjay pin emerges and the the bird comes to life and flies off of the screen. Suddenly there I am, in front of the real flames of District 8. There is the clip of me shouting my speech and then it cuts for the hospital collapsing in the background. Then the camera is back on me: _"Rebellion is when you look society in the face and say, 'I understand who you want me to be, but I am going to show you who I actually am.'"_ There is a clip of me pulling the children out of the bunker, which I did not even know was filmed until now. I see Gale shooting airplanes out of the sky with explosive arrows, then it is again back to me. "_This is who we are and the fire inside us all is catching."_ The Capitol seal is now on the screen and the flames engulf it melting it away. "President Snow, if we burn, you will burn with us." The screen goes black again, other then the white letters reading the words:

IF WE BURN, YOU BURN WITH US

Finally, those words catch fire too, and the screen fades out. There is a small moment of silence before the room bursts out into applause. I am rather quiet however, at the memory of those three children and the hope that they have made it through another day.

"Did it play all over Panem? Did they see it in the Capitol?" Gale asks.

"Not in the Capitol," says Plutarch. "We couldn't override their system, although Beetee's working on it. But in all the districts. We even got it in Two, which may be more valuable than the Capitol at this point in the game."

Everyone in the room claps again, accept for Fulvia. I realize that it must be hard for her seeing the success of Haymitch's idea after her studio idea failed.

"Now, I feel it is important to discuss the idea of sending Peeta into actual combat." Coin speaks up. "That was risky and I am not sure if something like this should be carried out again."

"It was a tough call," says Plutarch, scratching his temple, "but the general consensus was that we were not going to get anything from him if he was hidden away in a bunker the entire time."

"Peeta, are you alright with this?"

"Yes, I am completely fine with it. It felt good to be doing something for the cause for once."

"Well, let's just be a little more careful with his exposure- especially now that the Capitol knows what he can do." says Coin. "So, what else do you have planned?"

"Well, we have terrific footage of Peeta in the hospital, so we could do a whole other propo with that can focus on him interacting with the patients. We are also thinking about doing a highlight piece; showcasing some of his best moments. We can call that one 'Fire is Catching.'" Cressida says.

"I was also thinking we could to a piece titled, 'We Remember', Fulvia speaks up. "In each one, we could feature one of the dead tributes. Young Rue from 11 or Mags from 4. The idea being to target each district with something personal."

"A tribute to our tributes, as it were," says Plutarch.

"That is brilliant, Fulvia!" I say sincerely.

"Can you start producing them today?" Coin asks.

"Of course," replies Fulvia, clearly proud of her idea.

Coin closes the meeting and I am incredibly shocked that she did not scold me for my actions. Yet at the same time I am grateful, I seem to have enough things to deal with theses days.

So I decide to make my way up to the hospital to tell Finnick about these new ideas, especially since Fulvia has asked him to do the intro for the 'We Remember' pieces. I explain to him the ideas while the old propos play on the screen in his hospital room. I am happy to see how excited he is about being the intro to the 'We Remember' propo. Like myself, I know he feels good to be able to do something for a change.

"I think I have seen this burning hospital enough now." Finnick finally says, as the propo ends for the forth time tonight. I agree and hand him the remote control. Just as his hand goes to touch the power button, I cry, "Wait!"

The Capitol begins introducing some sort of special segment and something about it looks oddly familiar. It is Caeser Flickermen and I can already tell who his guest is going to be tonight.

Her physical transformation alone is enough to break me. The strong, healthy girl I saw a few days ago is at least ten pounds lighter. Her collar bones are protruding and her arms almost resemble twigs. She has a nervous tremor in her hands and her right eye twitches every few seconds. The paint they are trying to mask her face with is working, but I know her well enough to see the hurt in her eyes. The black and blue rims underneath are also beginning to seep through. Every movement she makes, I see a grimace appear on her face and can tell how badly damaged Katniss is.

My mind tries to make sense of everything, but the sight of her in pain is perhaps damaging me even more. I begin to wonder what horrors they could have possibly administered to her that could make her so deteriorated in such a short time.

"Katniss." I whisper, as my voice breaks and the tears begin pouring from my eyes and over my cheeks.

Katniss and Caesar have a few exchanges before Caesar asks her about the rumors that I have been filming propos with the rebels for the districts.

"They are obviously using him." She bites back. "I doubt he even knows what is going on in the war, or what is at stake." Her voice in trembling now.

"Is there anything you want to tell him?" Caeser asks.

"Peeta, don't be a fool." She is looking directly into the camera; directly into my soul. "Think for yourself…for us. They have turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you have any real influence, use it to stop this. Use it to stop the war before it is too late. Do you really trust those that you are working with? Do you really know what is going on? And if you don't, find out!"

The screen is black. Seal of Panem. Show over.

I drop to my knees this time and try not to call out in pure grief because I do not want any nurses coming into the room to sedate me. Surely others have seen this propo and know that I am probably having a severe mental breakdown. But I know that I can not allow myself to do that right now. Katniss believes that something is wrong and I need to find out for her...for us. Just like she said. I know I don't trust Coin, Plutarch- I'm not sure. Katniss' words did seem rehearsed, but where did she get this information? What are they telling her? And more importantly, what are they doing to her?

Suddenly, Finnick grips my arms. "We didn't see it."

"What?"

"We didn't see Katniss. Just the propo on 8. Then we turned it off because it upset us. Got it?" He asks.

"Got it." I reply, understanding his idea.

Finnick and I manage to eat some dinner together. Well Finnick eats, I sit next to him staring at the blank wall while my mind spins. Shortly after, Plutatch, Fulvia, and Gale enter. I am preparing to hear major damage control on her condition. However, Finnick and I go on pretending like we have not seen a thing. And surprisingly, so does Plutarch, Fulvia, and even Gale.

* * *

**Hey guys! Sorry this is a day late. I just started University so am very busy, I hope you understand. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave me a comment about your thoughts! I hope you guys are anticipating Katniss' return! I can't wait to share that with you! ALSO for my Guarding Daisies readers, I posted my new one-shot; A Special Friend ,so be sure to check that out if you have not already! Be sure to follow me on twitter TributeGirlEm , I will see you all next week XO**


	10. Chapter 9

I knew that I would not get much sleep tonight. How could I after all that I have seen? I also understand that odds are, my nightmares will be more horrific than my awaken thoughts.

In the morning, Cressida asks me to film a few lines for a propo, but when I get onto set, I cannot seem to find the words. In fact, I have not spoken since the conversation I had in the hospital with Finnick. My mind is too numb and shocked to do anything else. I force myself to attend lunch in the main dining area with the others, in hopes that someone will bring up Katniss and tell me what is going on with her situation; but no ones does. Not even Gale. Someone must have seen it besides Finnick and myself. It was a national broadcast sent out across the entire nation.

Eventually, I cannot take sitting with these people anymore, so I get up and place my tray in the bins and exit. I do not get very far however, because Haymitch has followed me out.

"So I heard the morning propo didn't go so well." He states.

I don't respond.

He breathes a long sigh.

"Look, Peeta," he begins, "I know you saw it."

This snaps me out of my state of a mental Avox. "Then why didn't you say anything to me?"

I turn on my toes and am now facing him directly; my eyes do not dare to leave his.

"Because...we were hoping you didn't have to see it."

"So what? If I didn't, your plan was just to keep it a secret from me? There's a possibility that the person I love the most in this world is being tortured and probably killed at this very moment." I snap at him, spitting my words in frustration.

"It was for your own good." He replies quietly.

"You know, I thought you agreed to stop keeping things from me, but apparently Katniss, again, knows more than me. I probably shouldn't trust the people that I'm working with." I turn around and stomp my way down the hallway before my anger becomes explosive and I do something I'll regret. I am so sick of people lying to me for my own good because clearly, no good ever comes out of it.

When I reach my compartment, I slam the door behind me and bury myself into my small bed that sits pressed into the wall. I allow myself to scream into my tiny pillow. My mind is buzzing with the thought of Katniss. I think about the time when I first saw her on our first day of school so long ago; how, at even such a young age, she was already perfect to me. I think of the bread, the cave, the rooftop, the beach- all those wonderful nights where we simply just held each other to escape our own nightmares. I think about how deeply I wish she was lying with me now. I want to smell her hair; smell the scent of lilac and pine. I miss the way her slight frame fit so perfectly up against my chest; how our breathing seemed to be in unison. All of these memories seem to come flooding back to me, and when the realization hits that now they may only be memories, I break down; the tears soaking my pillow. I try to steady my breathing, but it is clear that it is almost uncontrollable.

Suddenly, there is a knock at the door and I lift my head to see Gale standing there. He is clearly in a better emotional state then myself, but there is no hiding the dark rims under his eyes that signal many sleepless nights. I try to wipe my eyes because I am worried that if he sees me in this condition, he'll report it to the hospital and I will be taken back into that horrid place.

"Haymitch asked me to check on you…"

I manage to chuckle though my teary eyes. "What does he care?"

Gale doesn't respond, but instead walks deeper into my compartment and sits on a small grey stool across from my bed. He leans his head back against the chilled wall and I watch his shoulders slouch. He looks younger when he is not standing over me with his shoulders pressed back and strong. Right now he looks vulnerable and he reminds me of myself.

"I don't know how you are staying so strong with all of this." I finally say to break through the silence in the room and to mask the sounds escaping my mouth.

"I just do, I guess..." He replies, sounding unsure.

"You're handling things better than I am." I add feeling inferior.

He stays silent again and just stares up at the dark ceiling. Eventually, his eyes close and I start to become slightly concerned for his sanity now. He slowly begins to lower his chin and I watch as he buries his head into his hands, leaning his elbows into his knees.

"You know, I miss her too. Everyday I'm terrified about what they could possibly be doing to her...after I saw that propo..." He stops himself and I am pretty sure he may be silently crying into his hands. He takes in a deep breath and continues. "...I wanted to break down too, but I keep myself strong because I know that it's what she would want me to be. But it's hard, because everybody keeps asking you about the loss of your love...but nobody bothers to ask me how I feel about losing her."

I lift my head and look at Gale. He is now staring back at me and I can see the distress and hurt plastered all across his face. I am angry at myself for not realizing this sooner and for being so selfish. As deeply as I want to be the one who loves Katniss and the one she loves back, I know that we don't have that right now. I know that Gale loves her too and that she may love him. Yet, no one seems to question Gale about his feelings because the only thing that matters to people are the star-crossed lovers of District 12. I realize again how easily the Capitol was able to manipulate people's mind into thinking that this fabricated relationship is the most important thing in the world.

"You're right." I reply as I stand up.

A confused expression appears on his face at my words; almost as if he does not believe I would reply in such a way.

"We're going to change that."

I begin walking to the exit and motion Gale to follow me. We exit side by side and I lead him to Command, dashing my way down hallways and through people. The eyes of the citizens turn to us and I can tell that they must think we are unstable. And perhaps we are, but with every reason to be.

When we arrive in Command, Haymitch, Plutarch, Fulvia, Cressida, and the team are seated around the table examining some previously shot footage for a propo. However, they turn to us when I burst open the metal door.

"We want to go to District 12...to film a propo!" I blurt out before they can even greet us.

"We do?" Gale replies quietly for only myself to hear.

"And what kind of propo do you have in mind?" says Cressida

"I think Gale should be in this one, talking about Katniss." I reply.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Plutarch begins. "We all agreed to keep Peeta as her lover for the camera."

"Would you people stop focusing on this love story for one second and realize that I am not the only one who loves Katniss and could have something valuable to say about her?" I holler.

"What's your idea, Peeta?" Cressida interrupts.

"Take him into the woods or something and let him talk to you about Katniss; show the people how there are many others fighting to get her home." I plead.

"Gale, what do you think?" Fulvia asks.

"I want to do it." He sternly responds.

"I think it is a wonderful idea!" Cressida says. "However, I think it is important for her protection, to keep their relationship to a strictly family status."

I sigh and I see that Gale also feels defeated.

"Do you think she might see it in the Capitol?" Gale questions.

"It's likely." Plutarch replies.

"She will know Gale; she will know what you mean in your words, even if they want to portray you as family." I say, attempting to reassure him.

He nods his head. "When can you get us to District 12?"

"Today." Cressida says.

* * *

I decide not to go to 12 with the others; this is Gale's moment and he does not need me there making things awkward. He needs time in the woods to reflect on his own situation and his own feelings. I am proud of myself for being able to push my jealously away and help Gale with this opportunity. I also agree that showing how loved Katniss is here will help to show people that we are all fighting to bring her back.

I spend the rest of my day getting lost in 13. I find new hiding spots in tiny storage closets and only come out to eat. I do not feel like talking to anyone right now. My day has already been overwhelming enough. I also would be lying if I said my mind was not captivated by the thought of Katniss and how badly I still want her here. I have been avoiding my schedule again, so I will not be surprised when people begin looking for me. One can only avoid their schedule for so long before it becomes inexcusable.

As I sit with my back against a steel shelf in a storage closet, someone swings the door open. Finally somebody has come to bring me back into this terrible reality. Now, I am forced to face the world and carry on with daily District 13 duties.

"Come on boy, you're wanted in Command." Haymitch's harsh voice booms into my ears and I have a great urge to reach my hands up to my ears to block out the sound.

I simply just shake my head to refuse.

"Gale's back; they want you to see the propo. Come on." Haymitch reaches his hand down to me to help me up, which is surprising for him. However, I decline his offer and force myself to stand on my own. I stumble slightly because I have been seated so long in a cramped area that my legs tingle as I stretch them. I then follow Haymitch silently all the way to Command.

The usual people are sitting around the table; this time Coin and Boggs are also present. I notice how the dark circles are still present under Gale's eyes, however, he looks almost rejuvenated. _She has no idea the effect she can have,_ I think to myself, allowing a grin to appear across my face.

"The filming of Gale's propo was excellent, so I would like to thank Peeta for the wonderful idea!" Cressida says, clapping her hands. Everyone else joins in, except for Coin.

Messalla turns the screen on and Gale appears. He is sitting on a fallen tree, deep within the woods. His face is stern but tired as he looks not into the camera, but into the treetops and begins to speak.

"I was fourteen when Katniss and I started to hunt together- she was only twelve." He begins. "I had obviously known her longer than that, being related to her and all." He says that with a tone of sarcasm and I can't help but love it. The perfect hint of rebellion. "But our fathers were both killed in those horrendous mines and it was up to us to feed our large families. We were young though, and did not have much knowledge of the forest. From an early age, Katniss was a perfect shot; she's the one who taught me how to shoot, and eventually one day, without us even saying anything, we became a team." He says this with a slight smile.

Cressida asks him about the last time he saw Katniss.

"The last time I saw Katniss in person was when she was onstage, and her name was called for the Quarter Quell. They never let me say goodbye to her either; none of us got to say our goodbyes. That was hard. I had this speech all worked out, but she never got to hear any of it. It wasn't fair."

Cressida asks him if he would like to proclaim it now.

"No." Is his only reply.

Cressida asks him what he misses most about Katniss.

He hesitates for a moment as if to search for the right words. This is a difference between Gale and I, because I would immediately have hundreds of different responses and the words would just fly out of my mouth, where Gale chooses everything he is going to say wisely and analyzes its causes and effects.

"... I just miss having someone around that I can trust." He explains. "I just miss my hunting partner; these woods are too vast without her here."

Suddenly, a mockingjay sounds from the tree above Gale and the camera catches his smile. It is perhaps the most timing I have ever seen. The propo fades to black.

Everyone in the room is speechless for a moment until they somehow manage to return to the present and begin clapping and patting Gale on the shoulder, telling him what an amazing job he has done. I also must agree, the propo was outstanding and we can only hope that somehow Katniss will see it because if Gale was told that she wouldn't see it, I doubt he would have been willing to film it. However, with that slight hope that she may hear his words, it was enough.

"Also- exciting news!" Fulvia adds. "We have received word from Beetee that he believes he can air a few propos into the Capitol. He is going to attempt to cut into the Capitol's broadcast tonight!"

"What's going on in the Capitol tonight?" Finnick asks. He is currently fresh out of the hospital and now living in his own compartment. The closest compartment to the hospital, however.

"Snow is making some sort of appearance." Haymitch says.

"Shhh, I think it's starting." Cressida says as the Capitol seal appears across the monitors.

The anthem follows the seal. Then, I am staring directly into the evil snake-like eyes of President Snow. He is greeting the nation with that pure white rose directly placed on his lapel for everyone to view. The camera begins to pull back and Katniss is now in the shot in front of a map of Panem. Her eye is twitching slightly and I notice the nervous tapping motion of her foot. She is draped in a fitted white dress that has a revealing slit trailing all the way up to her mid thigh. This is dress allows me to see just how skinny she has become. There are beads of sweat that have broken through the makeup on her forehead. However, the look in her eyes is what frightens me even more than President Snow himself. She looks enraged, yet blurred.

"She's worse," I cry. Finnick places his arm around my shoulders to anchor me. I try to steady myself, so I am able to hear her words.

Katniss begins to speak in a frustrated tone about the importance of a cease-fire. She speaks of the damage done in multiple districts as the map lights up to show the designated areas.

_BAM!_ Without warning, I am suddenly on television, holding onto the hand of little Eddy in District 8.

Plutarch is immediately up on his feet. "He did it! Beetee broke in!"

The room is filled with applause and cheers, then Katniss is back, and she looks distracted. Perhaps she has seen the flash of the monitor and my face on the screen. She tries to pick up the speech again by talking about the bombing of a water purification plant, when a clip Gale in the forest is suddenly on the screen, smiling at a Mockingjay. Now the entire event turns into a broadcast battle as the Capitol tries to defend off Beetee's attack. Beetee must have understood how the Capitol would be fighting back because he has prepared the best five to ten second clips of the many propos filmed.

Everyone is cheering with delight except for Gale, Haymitch, Finnick, and I. The four of us understand that with every rebel attack, Katniss becomes even more distant from us; slipping farther and farther away from our grasp.

Snow and Katniss are back on the screen and the set is in pure turmoil. The voice of many Capitol citizens are heard from their booths as they try to fight off Beetee's attacks. Snow begins to plow forward and attempts to explain how the rebels are clearly trying to interfere with important information for the citizens, as if the Capitol actually wanted to help the districts. President Snow then turns to Katniss and I immediately feel frightened for her.

"Katniss, given tonight events, is there any parting thought you wish to bestow with Peeta Mellark?"

At the mention of my name, her face contorts in effort. She begins speaking very slowly and sounds almost unsure of her words, as if uttering my name is toxic.

"Peeta...how do you think this will end? No one is safe, not in the districts." She pauses and it's almost as if all of a sudden she's become a little more secure with what she is about to say. "Surely not in the Capitol. And you in Thirteen..." She inhales deeply, almost fighting for air; the look in her eyes is insane. But she is sure of what she is about to say.

"Dead by morning!" She yells.

"End it!" Snow orders and the camera immediately turns from Katniss. Beetee throws everything into even more chaos by producing a still shot of me standing in the hospital, addressing the wounded. Quickly, the Capitol regains control and I can hear Katniss is trying to continue speaking. I am pretty sure I hear the word bombing come from her mouth, but I can't be certain. The camera is lowered out of frame and onto the bright white tiles. The scuffle of boots can be heard. The sound of an impact blow. Katniss' sharp cry of pain. Her blood splatters across the tiles.

* * *

**Hope you guys enjoyed this one! We are getting very close to her return now! Thank you so much for reading this! I have made one small change with the updating schedule. Instead of committing myself to updating to Saturday (which has clearly been failing anyways) it will be Saturday or Sunday. Now that I am in school, myself and my beta are very busy so this extra day will help a lot! ALSO I wanted to say, HAPPY TRAILER DAY to everyone! I hope you are all just as excited as I am! Be sure to follow me on Twitter TributeGirlEm where I post updates and sneak peeks. Today on twitter you will find me freaking out like a fangirl over the trailer however ;) Anyways, see you all next weekend XO **


	11. Chapter 10

The scream forms in my lower back and works its way up through my body and out of my mouth. The blood curdling sound echoes into the room and threatens to deafen me. I dash to the screen and press my hands to it, falling down onto my knees. I slam my fists into the concrete walls and lean my face into it. I continue to scream, letting the tears also fall from my eyes. My screams and sobs are so extreme that I think for a moment that I may suffocate, but then I remind myself that I shouldn't care. I continue until a small prick of pain enters my neck and my entire vision goes black.

* * *

_I lay on the roof top as the soft sun fades into the horizon. The entire sky is filled with an array of breathtaking oranges. However, the brilliant colours in no way compare to the sight in front of me. I lay with my head in Katniss' lap. She is safe and here with me. We are on a roof top somewhere. Not in the training center though; it is much simpler here. The smell of hot chocolate rushes into my nose and I see Katniss take a sip of the steaming liquid. I can't imagine a more perfect moment._

_"Will you stay with me?" I question, looking up into her grey eyes._

_She gives me a small smile that is so filled with love and hope. She places a gentle kiss on my forehead, so I grab her hand and gently kiss it back._

_"Always." She replies to me._

_I feel her hands stroking my hair and softly pushing the strands away from my eyes._

"Peeta, it's okay. You can open your eyes." Another gentle voice is speaking to me. It is very pleasant and soft, but it does not belong to Katniss.

I realize now that I was only dreaming and desperately wish that I was not being awaken. It is so rare that my dreams are that beautiful. However, someone is indeed pushing my hair away from my face and her voice is awfully familiar.

I slowly open my eyes. I am expecting for bright lights to blind my vision but it does not happen. The room I am in is dark and perhaps even gloomier than before.

"Peeta, it's alright. You're in a bunker hospital. We are on a level five lock down." Prim is standing in front of me in her usual nursing attire. She places a cold white wash cloth onto my head after pushing away the hair from my face.

The area I am in is very simple. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all the same grey colour. There are no signs or posters on the wall. I am in a very small area that is sectioned off by curtains. It contains a small side table and my single bed. There are only a few places for Prim to walk around in.

"Katniss saved us all by warning us of the bombing. We were able to evacuate the entire District into these underground bunkers before the bombs hit." She explains, avoiding my eyes.

I instantly wonder where Katniss found out this information. There is a small part of me that feels glad because this proves that Katniss is truly on the rebel side, but is being forced to represent the Capitol.

Then I remember her blood splattering the floor and shut my eyes from the world again. I have no tears because I do not think I have any left in my body. I am to broken and to exhausted to cry.

"She saved everyone?" I ask weakly, even though Prim has just explained it to me.

"She did." She begins. "She gave us a huge lead on the evacuation plan."

"Prim. . . are you alright?" I ask, not wanting to repeat the same mistake I made with Gale.

Prim is silent for awhile. I can tell how hurt she is too. Her eyes seem dull and the ever present smile that always graces her lips, has faded.

"No... not really. I broke too. You are just the only patient I wanted to work with right now." I can see the tears in her eyes, despite the strong exterior she often tries to present. I force myself to sit up even though my body hurts and I open my arms to her. She walks straight into them and wraps her arms around my neck. I hold her tightly with one hand on her head, smoothing her hair as she breaks down into my shoulder.

"I'm here Prim, you have been so strong." I tell her reassuringly. "So much stronger than me; I don't know how you do it."

She separates herself from me and wipes her eyes.

"I just got very scared when they brought you here." She tells me.

I take her hands in mine. "Prim, you don't need to be worried about me."

"But I do Peeta!" She exclaims. "As long as you're alive, they will keep her alive. If you die, they will not have a problem taking her out too!"

I look at her with a confused expression. "Why do you say that Prim?"

"Because she is the best weapon they have against you. If they kill Katniss, they will not have anything left to hurt you with. They won't kill her as long as you're alive."

Suddenly, I flash back to the Quarter Quell, just after Katniss had been trapped within the jabberjay zone. I was holding her and trying to calm her down when Johanna Mason said something that I can only now truly comprehend. "_They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love."_

I understand now that both Prim and Johanna are right. Snow can not afford to waste Katniss' life, especially now while the rebels cause so much havoc. He has killed my family, destroyed my home. Katniss is all he has left.

"So, what do you suppose they will do to her?" I ask.

Prim loses all aspects of a young girl when she speaks. She sounds so wise beyond her years. The innocent thirteen year old I once thought I new is now long gone.

"Whatever it takes to break you."

* * *

**Thank you all for reading my story! I know this was a short chapter, but I have some major events coming up in the next ones! I hope you enjoyed Peeta and Prims little moment! Let me know what you thought of them in a review! Special shoutout to christyjosh4eva , ravenclawshadowhunter13 ,cchester1985 ,Luna Jade,pookieortega for taking the time to review my last few chapters! I'm sorry if you reviewed and were not included? Fanfic has been a little off with the reviews lately! Anyways follow me on twitter TributeGirlEm for updates and sneak peeks. Also check out my new Instragram, MakeupGirlEm , where I recreate tons of Katniss' makeup from the movies! I'll see you all next week, thanks again!XO**


	12. Chapter 11

_What will break me?_

This question seems so simple and, perhaps, was at one point in my life. Yet, now the Capitol is involved and they are so advanced. The possibilities of torture they could inflict are endless and that thought begins to break me even further. I am breaking and am unsure if I will be able to be brought back together again and again. But I hang onto Prim's words and the idea that if I am kept alive, Katniss will be too.

The missiles continue to fall every few hours or so, but we are so far down into the depths of the earth that it doesn't harm us. I am still in the hospital and have not been given a compartment to stay in although, I doubt they will at all. The doctors here tell me that I am too unpredictable. Some days I seem stronger than ever, while other days, I seem to lose all will to continue on. Prim continues to visit me in the hospital, as I am the only patient she feels like working with lately. I can tell that this loss is now really starting to take its toll on this young girl who once seemed so strong. She has seen too much. She has watched her sister endure torture that is so beyond her years.

We hardly receive any information about what is going on; only brief audio updates from Coin on the nature of the bombs. The other citizens are put on strict schedules for the days, but they are rather boring because there is not much to be done down here.

I begin to feel trapped in my curtained hospital room, especially when Prim leaves. So, on the third night, I make myself stand. I am wearing a simple hospital gown with my underclothes on underneath. My bare feet are cold against the tile. I exit the small hospital area and begin roaming the bunker for the first time. It is not much more exciting than the area I have been living in. All of the compartment doors are shut for the night and guards stand at the end of the hallway. The compartment closest to the hospital is shut, but a glow of light is coming from the small crack at the bottom of the door. A laminated piece of paper reads the last name Odair. I don't even bother knocking, but instead, push myself into his compartment before a guard spots be and directs me back to the hospital.

Finnick is seated under the safety light in this small space, tying his rope. I can tell that he hasn't had much sleep within these last few days. I begin to tell him about Snow's plan to break me using Katniss as the weapon, when it suddenly dawns on me: this idea is old news to Finnick. It is the exact same strategy that broke him.

"They are doing the exact same thing to me as they do to you with Annie, aren't they?" I ask, coming to this realization.

"Well, they didn't arrest her because they thought she'd be a wealth of rebel information," he says. "They know I'd never risk telling her anything like that; for her own protection."

"Finnick, I'm so sorry," I say.

"No, I'm sorry- that I didn't warn you somehow." He says to me.

Suddenly, a memory enters my mind; right before I was sedated on the hovercraft to District 13 after being pulled from the arena.

_"They'll figure out she doesn't know anything and won't kill her if they believe they can use her against you!" _

"You did try to warn me though, Finnick- on the hovercraft. But when you explained how they would use her against me, I thought you meant like bait to get me into the Capitol." I say.

"I shouldn't have said even that. It was too late for it to have been any help to you. I didn't warn you before the Quarter Quell, so I should have just shut up about the way Snow operates." He says, yanking the end of his rope.

"It's just that I didn't understand when I met both of you. After your first Games, it was pretty clear that you loved her, but I wasn't sure about Katniss…whether it was all for the cameras or not." He begins and I look away not even wanting to think about that right now. "I thought that strategy would just continue into the Quell. But it wasn't until you hit the forcefield and nearly died that I-" He hesitates.

I think back to the arena; Katniss sobbing as my heart began beating again and the puzzled look upon Finnick's face as he watched Katniss break down in my arms. "That you what?"

"That I knew I had misjudged her; that I misjudged your relationship. That she does love you. I'm not saying in what way; odds are she doesn't know herself. But anyone paying attention could see how much she cares for you." He explains gently.

My eyes do not leave Finnick as he speaks to me. I swallow hard and force myself not to cry again. We sit for a long while in silence, watching the knots form and then vanish, until I ask, "How do you bear it?"

Finnick looks at me in disbelief. "I don't, Peeta. Obviously, I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning but find there's no relief in waking. And I see you, Peeta, and you are going down the same exact road that I did and still am. But it is better to not give into it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself together as it does to fall apart."

Finnick- he must know that I am already broken; that just like him, I will have to begin the process of putting myself back together after so much damage.

"The more you distract yourself, the better." He says. "First thing tomorrow, we'll get you your own rope. Until then, take mine."

I spend the rest of my night in my small hospital bed, tying knots and then taking them apart just as Finnick had done. By morning, my fingers are sore and flushed, but I still refuse to let it go.

* * *

After twenty-four hours of no bombs, Coin finally announces we can leave the bunker. The old quarters have been destroyed by the bombs so everyone is given direct orders to their new compartments. I am relieved when they tell me that I am also able to be discharged from the hospital. However, when I get to my new quarters I realize that my next door neighbour is Finnick, thus also making my new home about ten paces away from the hospital entrance.

I am not in my compartment very long before Boggs, Gale, and Finnick are at my door motioning me to Special Defense. Special Defense is almost an identical room to that of Command. Coin, Plutarch, Haymitch, Cressida and everyone else is around a table looking exhausted when I arrive. The smell of coffee fills my nose and Plutarch motions for me to sit, handing me a cup of the bitter liquid.

"Want a sugar cube?" Finnick asks in a seductive voice. I laugh thinking back to the time before the Quell when he asked the same thing to Katniss. After hearing about this encounter, my first instinct was to avoid him at all costs. However, this was before we became allies; before we became friends. Before I learned about the real Finnick Odair.

"It improves the taste." He says, plunking a few cubes in my cup. I am unsure at first because I absolutely hate sugar in my tea, but am surprised how the sweet cubes were able to greatly enhance the taste of the bitter coffee.

"Thank you." I reply with a smile.

"We need all four of you suited up and above ground," says Coin. "You have two hours to get footage showing the damage from the bombs, establish that Thirteen's military unit remains not only functional but dominant, and, most important, that Peeta is still alive. Any questions?"

All of us shake our heads and I am immediately brought into the Remake Room in Special Defence before I can give it a second thought. Portia is there and helps me into my military suit, arranges my hair, and applies minimal makeup for the cameras. She does not say anything about Katniss, which I am almost thankful for because the topic makes me too depressed. Instead our conversations are very light and easy.

By the time we get outside, I have a new appreciation for the outdoors. After being trapped underground for long periods of time, the air always smells fresher, the grass greener, and I love it. When we get into the forest, I notice how the leaves are just beginning to change colour. September will begin in just one week. This will mean that Snow will have Katniss in his clutches for six weeks. The thought causes my body to shudder, so I attempt to push it out of my mind.

The trees begin to disappear as we enter the area inside the fence. There are craters circled into the ground with a mixture of old and new rubble. Everything that was aboveground before and the first ten layers underground have been obliterated.

"How much of an edge did Katniss' warning give?" Haymitch asks.

"About ten minutes before our own systems would have detected the missiles." Boggs says

"But it did help right?" I ask.

"Absolutely," Boggs replies. "Civilian evacuation was completed. Seconds count when you're under attack. Ten minutes meant lives saved."

Odds are, because I was brought down by the medical staff, I was one of the last groups to make it to the bunker. I'll add this to the tally of how many times Katniss Everdeen has saved my life.

Cressida decides to film us in front of the old justice building. It is almost laughable because the Capitol has been using this backdrop for fake broadcasts for years.

As we approach the steps of the destroyed justice building, Gale points to something and the entire group of us comes to a halt. At first, I do not see what the issue is, but then I see that the ground is strewn with fresh pink and red roses.

"Don't touch the flowers!" I yell. "They're for me."

The smell is so sickeningly sweet; it rushes into my nose. My heart instantly begins to beat in my chest. So the red rose I found on Katniss' bed was not just a one time thing. These flowers are not meant for one person, but for a pair of lovers. These were the flowers that graced the stages on the Victory Tour and the tables of the parties we'd attended.

I try to explain this to the others the best I can. I know they are harmless to them because they are not meant to harm me physically. President Snow understands that the best way to hurt me is to do it mentally and these flowers were a wonderful strategy. However, Boggs assembles a group of people in specialized suits to collect them anyways.

Eventually the group gets in place. Castor and Pollux stand, cameras ready with Cressida next to them. The anxiety that the roses have brought upon me is too much. The red reminding me of Katniss' blood splattering the white tiles. My hands physically shake, so I hold them, trying to catch my breath. The sweat trickles down my back and temples.

"Are you feeling alright?" Cressida asks clearly seeing that something is not right with me. "How about we do a Q&A thing?"

I only nod. Finnick gives me the thumbs up, but I am pretty sure he is shaking himself.

"So Peeta, you've survived the Capitol bombing of Thirteen. How did it compare with what you experienced on the ground in eight?" Cressida asks.

I know what I want to say, and what I should say, but I cannot seem to let words escape from my mouth. I try to swing my arms to loosen myself up. I place my hand on the back of my neck and then drop them to my sides. I have the intense urge to vomit so I swallow hard and try to speak, but once again, I am mute.

I cover my face with my hands. I can't do this. It is completely impossible to be the face of this rebellion; so impossible to complete even one sentence. This is because I know that everything I say will directly be taken out upon Katniss. It will only result in her torture. She will not die of course, that would be to merciful. Snow will make sure her life is much worse then death. Katniss and I protect each other and by speaking in this manner I am only ailing her further.

"Cut!" I hear Cressida holler.

"What's wrong with him?" Plutarch says under his breath. I am curled up with my knees tucked into my chest and my hands over my face, but no tears fall. He probably assumes that I can't hear him, but I most certainly can.

"He figured out how Snow is using Katniss." Finnick adds.

I can almost hear a collective sigh amongst the group. Now, they know that even my use of speech has been taken away. Now, I do not even have that because even my most powerful weapon is being used against me. There is no way for me to not know this again. Today only confirms something I already knew; I am broken.

Several sets of arms attempt to embrace me. But surprisingly, there is only one person I want to comfort me. I walk straight into Haymitch's arms, because in the end, I know he loves Katniss too.

"It's okay, we'll be alright Peeta." He keeps his arms around me as he helps me sit back down on a piece of a broken marble pillar.

I still do not cry. I am too broken for such an intense emotion.

"I can't do this anymore," I say.

"I know." He replies.

"All I can think of is. . . what he's going to do to Katniss. . .because I'm here." I get out.

"I know." Haymitch says, tightening his grip around me.

"Did you see? How strange she acted? What are they. . .doing to her?" I am hyperventilating now. "It's my fault!" I get out one last phrase before Haymitch stands up and pulls me up with him. Gale grabs my other arm and they stabilize me and begin to walk me back towards the depths of 13.

I lose it completely when I see Plutarch prick Finnick with a needle, causing him to become sedated. Finnick broke down into sobs right after I started hyperventilating. Finnick began trashing and yelling through his tears, so Plutarch stuck a needle into his neck. When I go to knock the needle from his hands, I watch Haymitch stick me with a needle right into the shoulder. I want to yell at him too, but the sedation makes me feel calm until my vision goes black again.

* * *

When I wake, I am in the hospital and I am suddenly afraid that they are going to keep me here permanently now. I am in and out of the hospital so often that it is almost wasteful to give me my own compartment and here in District 13, they are not wasteful.

Haymitch is sitting in a chair across from me when I open my eyes. This makes me remember Katniss and I begin to tremble. I know that I must stay alive and that I must live for her, it is just so difficult when she is so far away. Without my family and without her, I feel like I have nobody left to love.

"It's alright. We're going to try to get Katniss out."

"What?" I question because Haymitch had just told me that it was still too soon to perform any rescue attempt.

"Plutarch's sending in a rescue team. He has people on the inside. He thinks he can get her back alive." He says.

"Why did you decide this now?" I ask, forcing myself to sit up.

"Because it was costly. But everyone thinks this is the thing to do. We can't lose you now. And you can't perform unless you know Snow can't take it out on Katniss. Also, if we can get Katniss here, we can finally put the official Mockingjay plan into action." Haymitch offers me a cup. "Here, drink something."

I slowly take a sip of water and try to fully analyze the situation before I begin to celebrate. "What do you mean costly?"

He shrugs. "Covers will be blown. People may die. . .but keep in mind that they're dying every day. And it's not just Katniss; we're getting Annie out for Finnick, too."

"Where is he?" I ask.

"Behind the screen. It was really an excellent shoot. You two cracked up and Boggs left to arrange the mission to get them out. We're officially in reruns."

I can't help but smile a little now. "Well if Boggs is leading it, that's a plus," I say.

"Oh, he's on top of it. It was volunteer only of course." He explains.

"So who else volunteered?" I ask.

"I think there was seven altogether." He says evasively.

I get a bad feeling in my stomach because obviously I know who volunteered first. I do not even have to ask. I know the first face she will see. I know the one who will probably rescue her from the Capitol's grasp; who will probably hold her and comfort her the entire way home. And maybe that's the way she would have wanted it.

Gale.

* * *

**Hello readers! Sorry this is a day late! University life has been crazy, so finding time to get these up has been hard! Anyways I hope you enjoyed this chapter! BIG things are coming next so I hope you are ready for them! I will see you all next weekend! XOXO**


	13. Chapter 12

Today I could lose her. Today Katniss could be killed during her rescue. Any of the soldiers on the team could die today. There is also a chance that Katniss may return home, but Gale won't. The idea of losing any of the soldiers during this is terrifying.

I try to image a world where Katniss Everdeen does not exist, however, it is hard because I know that if Katniss does not exist in this world, then odds are I will not either. If she dies, I will truly have nothing- nobody else that I truly care about will be left. A world without Katniss Everdeen is a world that I do not desire to live in. She is everything to me; I just want her to be happy and safe, whether that is with me or not. I have discovered that when you love someone so deeply, they never really leave your soul. They are somehow forever with you; I will always carry our story. Without her, I am nothing. When I am with her I am something- but together, she is everything to me.

"Do you want me to sedate you until it's over?" asks Haymitch. He's not joking either. But I give him a disturbed look anyways.

"No," I reply. "I want to go to the Capitol and I want to be apart of this rescue mission!"

"They're gone," says Haymitch.

"Well, how long ago did they leave? I can catch up?" I suggest, pulling the sheets off of my bare legs and standing up. I am a little wobbly, but I catch the bedside railing to stable myself.

"It will never happen." Haymitch says, shaking his head. "You are much too valuable and vulnerable. There was talk of sending you to another district to divert the Capitol's attention while the rescue takes place, but no one felt you could handle it."

"Haymitch please!" I am begging now. "I can't just sit here and do nothing; waiting to hear if they died! I have to help somehow or I won't be able to live with myself."

"Alright, I'll talk to Plutarch."

Haymitch leaves and tells me to stay put, but I can't- there is too much on my mind now. I plunge my way through the thin dividing curtain into Finnick's area and find him lying flat on his stomach. I know it is cruel to wake him during one of his few moments of rest, but I have so many thoughts and words to share, I cannot possibly go through this alone.

When I explain the situation, his face instantly brightens. "Don't you see, Peeta? This will decide things- one way or the other. By the end of the day, they'll either be dead or with us. It's . . .more than we could hope for!"

Finnick certainly has a brighter view on the situation. Yet, I must agree that in the depths of my heart, there is some relief knowing that one way or another, the torture will end for Katniss today.

Suddenly, the curtain yanks back and Haymitch is standing before us. He explains how they still need post-bombing footage of 13.

"If we can get it in the next few hours, Beetee can air it leading up to the rescue, and maybe keep the Capitol's attention elsewhere." He adds.

"Yes- a distraction," says Finnick, sounding pleased. "A decoy of sorts."

"What we need is something so riveting that even President Snow won't be able to tear himself away. Got anything like that?" asks Haymitch.

Having a job like this makes me feel more important, almost as if I am helping to protect Katniss again. I scarf down my lunch and realize that I already know what I am going to talk about. President Snow took Katniss and used her to break me. Therefore, I must show him that I am whole and that my love for her is more powerful than ever before. I understand how a few simple outbursts is not what he is looking for; it is these deep and powerful stories that will catch people's attention.

I know immediately that it will work, so when the television crew assembles aboveground, I ask Cressida to begin questioning me about Katniss. I take a seat on the marble pillar where I had my breakdown and wait for Cressida's cue.

"How did you meet Katniss?" She asks me.

The question instantly makes me smile because out of all the seventeen years of my life, all the days I have lived through, I can honestly count this one as one of the top three best days of my entire life.

"When I first laid eyes on Katniss Everdeen, I was only five years old. It was our first day of school and I still have a vivid picture of her standing there in a bright red plaid dress. Her hair was fashioned perfectly into two braids instead of her traditional one. Even at that young age, I could see how beautiful she was. Her voice was almost more stunning than her appearance. Everyone would stop what they were doing to listen to her sing; even the birds outside the windows. I often think that those were the moments where I really fell in love with her. Many people have tried to tell me that it is far to absurd for a young five year-old to be in love, but I disagree, because ever since that day my feelings for her have never changed. Perhaps they have grown stronger, but there is not a day that goes by where I do not love her. And nobody can change that."

I pause and take a breath; my words had been flowing so freely from my mouth.

"What do you miss most about her?" Cressida questions.

I look up to the clear blue sky for a moment because there are multitude things that I miss about her.

"I miss . . .I miss knowing that she is safe." I begin. "I miss her smile because at times it was so rare that it became even more beautiful every time it happened. I miss her exquisite grey eyes that are the most alluring feature she has. If you gazed into them too long, you began to feel like you were watching a morning sunrise or the night sky on the most star-filled evening. I have tried to paint them multiple times, but I haven't quite mastered that perfect combination of colours to do them justice."

The entire crew is so silent now that you could hear a pin drop. I have to nod my head in order to remind Cressida that she can ask me the next question.

"How are you dealing with the separation?"

"It's almost something I can't explain because I can't really comprehend how this entire situation makes me feel. Knowing that Snow could kill her at any minute is a terrible thing to try to live with, but I know now that I have no reservations about doing what it takes to destroy the Capitol. Just look at what they are doing to her and it becomes clear. I am finally free because of that. I just want her home. The districts need to understand that once we declare our freedom, the Capitol will collapse because it is completely dependent on the Districts. Today, I declare my freedom, not only for myself, not only for Katniss, but for everyone that was killed under the Capitol's control."

I have succeeded. It may not have been dazzling, but my words were exactly what we were looking for. I have even managed to choke a few people up. Fulvia and Portia are in full tears. Cressida and Castor have to wipe a tear away from their cheeks.

Plutarch then calls Finnick over and he takes a seat on the same pillar that I was previously sitting on. I now stand behind the camera next to Haymitch. Finnick looks almost frightened. He is pale and has a slight shake in his hands

"You don't have to do this." Haymitch tells him. This automatically makes me wonder what Finnick might possibly have to say. I mean, I know he has gone through plenty of pain in his life, but I really don't know much about his story outside of the games.

"Yes, I do. If it will help her," he balls up his rope into his hands, "I'm ready."

I guess you could say I was expecting some story that was similar to mine; a love story about Annie, maybe perhaps about his horror in the games. However, Finnick takes a completely unexpected approach.

"President Snow used to . . .sell me . . .my body, that is." Finnick begins in a tone that is so removed. "I wasn't the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love- so you do it."

Now it is my turn to stand behind the camera and become speechless; my simple romantic story about Katniss has instantly been blown out of the water. For once, my words have become almost meaningless. Finnick's words begin to explain so much. His many lovers in the Capitol, they were never real lovers. They were just people with enough money to buy a vulnerable victor. He was devoured and discarded because of his appearance. I now feel entirely guilty for every false accusation I have ever had against this District 4 victor.

"I wasn't the only one, but I was the most popular. And perhaps the most defenseless because the people I loved were so defenseless." He explains. "To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewellery, but I found a much more valuable form of payment." Finnick takes a deep breath, filling his lungs before he speaks again. "Secrets. And this is where you are going to want to stay tuned, President Snow, because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some others."

Finnick begins to dive into these intense, captivating stories that are so rich in detail that you know how true they are. He tells tales about obscured sexual appetites, intense betrayals of the heart, unending greed, and bloody power plays. I can't help but think of many of the other victors. Cashmere, Chaff, Brutus even. Many of them were reasonably attractive; many of them probably sold a few times themselves. If Katniss and I were not the star crossed lovers of District 12, odds are, we would have been sold a fair share of times ourselves too. However, no one has suffered in this way as much as Finnick. He was a true example of a Capitol slave. I don't recognize any of the names Finnick professes, but from the faces of Portia and Fulvia, I can tell that they recognize many. Their secrets poured out to the camera now.

"And now, on to our good President Coriolanus Snow," Finnick says triumphantly. "Such a young man when he rose to power, such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. Poison." Finnick goes back to the Snow's political beginning, pointing out several cases of unexplained deaths of Snow's adversaries, sometimes even allies. People dropping dead at dinner parties- blamed on bad food or elusive viruses. Snow drank from the poisoned chalice himself to avoid suspicion, but antidotes don't always work. Apparently, that is why he wears those roses that reek so foully of perfume; to cover the sent of blood in his mouth from sores that will never fully heal. They say that he has a list . . .and no one knows who will come next."

When I think about all of the heinous crimes the Capitol had already committed, I must admit that these stories do not truthfully shock me. However, when I look around to see the faces of the people who once lived within the streets of the Capitol, they are completely flabbergasted. Even Plutarch seems rather shocked. The crew keeps the camera rolling until Finnick has to be the one who yells "Cut". They are all waiting around, wondering what other stories he has stored up in his memory waiting to burst out.

The crew hurries to edit this material. I am left in the rubble, beginning to realize that odds are, President Snow would have probably sold Katniss and I anyways. Sure our love means depths to some citizens, but it obviously means nothing to him. I am sure he would have got a fabulous price for the boy with the bread and the girl on fire. Perhaps offering us up as a pair even. The thought makes me shiver. How completely dehumanizing that must have felt for these slaves.

"Is that what happened to you?" I ask Haymitch suddenly concerned that this list may be longer that I once assumed.

"No. My mother, younger brother- my girl…they were all dead two weeks after I was crowned victor. All because of that stunt I pulled with the force field." He answers. "Snow had no one to use against me."

This is the first time I have heard about Haymitch's loss from the games. I had known that people he loved were killed, but I was not aware of the detail.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch." I tell him.

"I was the example boy. The person to hold up to the young Finnick's and Enobaria's and Johanna's of what could happen to a victor who caused problems," says Haymitch.

"Until Katniss and I came along." I say softly.

Haymitch is still and does not reply.

With our jobs done, there is nothing for us to do but wait. Finnick and I wait together in special defense; tying knots and watching the minutes tick by. We don't eat much lunch so I watch him test out his trident in the shooting range.

At 15:00, the designated hour, we stand at the back of the room with tense muscles and silent mouths watching Beetee attempt to dominate the airways. His face is creased and he looks very determined. Most of my interview does not make it into the propo, just a few bits to show that I am still alive and am declaring my freedom from the Capitol. It is Finnick who becomes the star of this propo. At first, the Capitol feed alternates between the usual newscast and Finnick. However, Beetee's attempts improve because the techno team manages to override the entire attack on Snow.

When the propo is done, Beetee ends up showing us a blue print of the rescue plan. The plan includes freeing the prisoners from an underground prison using knockout gas distributed through the vents, a power failure, a bombing of a government building a few blocks down, and finishing with the propo attack.

"Well, they are either out or dead by now!" Beetee exclaims with a smile.

Finnick and I look at each other and I stable myself on the back of Beetee's wheel chair. We end up back in Command because that is most likely the first place the news of the rescue will come.

Make knots. No words. Make knots. Make knots. Watch the clock. Tick Tock. Do not think of Katniss. Make knots.

Finnick eventually gives up on the knots and positions himself in that same curled up position he took in the area after being trapped in the jabberjay sector.

"Did you love Annie right away Finnick?" I ask.

"No," A long time goes by before be finishes his sentence, "she crept up on me."

* * *

It must be midnight; it must be tomorrow. I have lost count of how long we have been waiting in this room. Finally, Haymitch bursts through the door. "They're back. We're wanted in the hospital." My mouth opens with a flood of questions about Katniss, but he cuts me off.

"That's all I know."

I want to run, I want to sprint down these hallways and find her. However, Finnick is acting so strange- like he has lost all ability to move. So I take his hand and pull him because I do not want to leave him behind, but I do not have the time to wait around while he learns how to walk on his own again. When the elevator doors open, the place is in an uproar. Doctors are shouting and the wounded are being wheeled through the halls on beds and wheelchairs.

I almost lose it at the sight of a young woman with a shaven head. Her flesh is bruised with oozing scores that look infected. It's Johanna Mason; a woman who actually knew rebel secrets, and this is how she paid for it. I blink back the tears and move myself on because I have to find Katniss.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Gale. He is in a wheelchair with his shirt off as a nurse is pulling something out of his shoulder with tweezers. I am surprised he is not with Katniss. His eyes are red, almost as if he looks to have been crying. And chilling enough, I doubt his tears are from the pain of his wound.

"Finnick!" A high-pitched shriek pulls my mind back to reality. A beautiful, but worn woman with messy dark hair and green eyes runs towards us in nothing but a sheet to cover her naked body.

"Finnick!" They collide into each other and in this moment, it is almost as if no one else in the world matters. They slam into a wall and hold each other collapsing to the ground where they stay, clinging to each other in pure love and relief.

A pang of jealousy hits me. No one seeing this pair would ever doubt their love.

Boggs finds Haymitch and me. He looks exhausted, but unharmed. "We got them all out. Except Enobaria, but she is from 2 so we doubt she is being held anyways. Katniss is at the end of the hall. The effects of the gas are just wearing off. You should be there when she wakes."

Katniss.

The tears instantly form in my eyes. She is here and alive. In a few minutes, I will able to hold her, smell her, touch her. I will see her smile and remind her that I will always be here for her. Haymitch has to remind me to be strong because Katniss has been through a lot and she does not need a weeping emotionally unstable baker to wake up to.

"Come on then!" Haymitch adds, with a smile this time.

My heart is beating out of my chest and I am light-headed with excitement. All I can picture is Finnick and Annie and how I can only hope we have even a fraction of that. I try to think of something to say, but then realize that I just want to hug her and hopefully even kiss her. I hope that our kiss feels like those kisses on the beach because that was a kiss where I could tell that Katniss really felt something for me.

She is awake already, sitting on the side of the bed. She looks bewildered as a team of doctors are shining lights into her eyes and checking her pulse. However, she looks beautiful all the same.

When I walk into the room, her face displays disbelief and something else that I cannot seem to place. I remind myself to go slow and to not just sweep her up into my arms. She gets a better view of me and sweeps the doctors aside and is up on her feet. I can't help but grin as she moves towards me. I can't help myself anymore. I run to meet her, the tears filling my eyes. When her arms extend out to me, they begin to fall. She is reaching for my face and I know that I am going to kiss her, feel her lips crashing into mine.

I just begin to call her name and bring my face closer to hers when her fingers lock around my throat.

* * *

**HELLO EVERYONE! Sorry that this is so late! But I really hope that it was worth it! This chapter was intense to write so I hope you enjoyed it! Be sure to leave me a comment of your thoughts! See you all soon! XOX**


	14. Chapter 13

The look in her eyes terrifies me beyond comprehension. They are charcoal black and that beautiful starlit gray is so far gone. Her fingers are cold around my neck, but I feel no physical pain. She is trying to kill me; I can see it in her face, but I know immediately that this is not her. They have done this to her. The Katniss I once knew is not here. A thousand different memories surge through my mind at this moment. The way her head used to fit perfectly into the spot under my chin, lying with her on the roof stroking back her hair, my lips sweeping across her neck on the train, or her hands skimming my cheek and neck ever so gently on the beach. All of that is over. I reach up to stroke her cheek and her grip tightens around my neck, cutting off my air supply.

Suddenly, I watch Boggs hit her in the back of the head, causing her to fall and pull her hands away from me. I gasp for air to regain my strength and then ball my hand into a fist, connecting it with Boggs' temple. Someone else sends a needle into my neck. I try to stand and keep myself upright. I lunge for Katniss because she is now also lying unconscious on the ground. I scream. I stumble to the ground next to her. My world goes black.

* * *

When I attempt to breathe, it is painful because it feels like only a small amount of air is flowing through my larynx. A tube sits around my ears and face, leading to my nose, giving me extra oxygen to keep me alive. There is a brace around my neck that only helps to remind me of what happened to put me in this hospital. I tell myself to keep breathing because despite what some doctors believe, I do not want to die. I need to live. I need to help bring Katniss back from her dark and cold mind that does not belong to her.

It was Boggs who sedated Katniss before permanent damage could be done. I know Haymitch would have come to my defense too, but none of us were prepared for what happened. She is hurt; her mind trapped away deep within her brain, shadowed by deep fear and hatred brought on by the Capitol.

Eventually Plutarch, Haymitch, and Beetee enter my room and I instantly hope that they are going to tell me I can exit the hospital and begin helping with Katniss' rehabilitation.

A nurse helps me sit up and give me a shot of something to ease the swelling. Prim is not my usual nurse anymore. She is now devoting her time to work with Katniss because Prim is one of the few people who's memory was thankfully not touched by the Capitol. Besides, the Capitol did not have access to their story the way they did ours, they had no memories of Prim to alter that severely. However, our relationship was so public that everything was used against her.

"So…Peeta, Katniss' condition has come as a shock to all of us," Plutarch begins. "We couldn't help but notice her deterioration in the last two interviews. Obviously, she's been abused, and we put her psychological state down to that. Now, we believe something more was going on, that the Capitol has been subjecting her to a rather uncommon technique known as hijacking. Beetee?"

"I'm sorry Peeta, but I can't tell you the specifics of it." Beetee says. "The Capitol is very secretive about this form of torture, and I believe the results are inconsistent. This is what we know: it's a type of fear conditioning. The term hijack comes from an old English word that means 'to capture' or even better, 'to seize'. We believe it was chosen because the technique involves the use of tracker jacker venom, and the jack suggests hijack. You were stung in your first Hunger Games, so unlike most of us, you have firsthand knowledge of the effects of the venom."

I remember back to my first games, after fighting off Cato. I remember the hallucinations and visions of Katniss being killed. The venom targets the part of your brain that houses fear.

"Recall has been made even more difficult because memories can be changed." Beetee taps a spot on his forehead. "Brought to the forefront of your mind, altered, and saved again in the revised form. Now, imagine that I ask you to remember something- either with a verbal suggestion or by making you watch a tape of the event. Then, while that experience is refreshed, I give you a dose of tracker jacker venom. Not enough to induce a three-day black out, just enough to infuse the memory with fear and doubt. And that's what your brain puts in long-term storage."

I start to feel sick again and the true realization of what they have done to her.

"So, that's what they've done to her? Taken all of her memories with me and distorted them into something she fears?"

Beetee nods his head. "So scary that they seem life threatening to her. So scary that she wants to kill you. Yes, that's our current theory. You are not the only one, however, she fears Gale as well; just not as deeply as she fears you. The Capitol had way more usable footage of the two of you."

I cover my face with my hands and clench them into fists hoping to relieve some frustration. This does not seem possible. How could someone have the ability to make a person forget about his or her feelings towards someone else? How could they make her forget that she cared for me, perhaps loved me even? That thought is enough to break me.

"We're going to reverse it though, right?" I finally ask.

"We…have very little data on that," Plutarch says. "None, actually. If hijacking rehabilitation has been attempted before, than we have no records of it."

"But we are going to try!" I say sternly.

"Of course we will try, Peeta." Beetee says with a smile. "It's just, we don't know to what degree we'll succeed. My guess…"

"We are going to succeed." I interrupt. "I don't care what you think, Katniss is going to come back."

Everyone only nods.

"We're putting together a team of mental health and military professionals. I personally feel optimistic that she'll make a full recovery." Plutarch explains, his words sounding a little too forced.

"Do you?" I ask, my words directed towards Haymitch.

With one glance at Haymitch, I can see the exhaustion and discouragement in his eyes. "I think she'll get somewhat better. But…I don't think she will ever be the same."

Tears fill my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I need to remain strong and get myself out of this hospital. I need to help Katniss.

"At least she is alive," Plutarch says. He seems to be losing patience with us already. "Katniss is damaged, but she's here. With us. And that's a definite improvement over this situation twelve hours ago. Let's keep that in mind, all right?"

Plutarch is right, and his words manage to make me feel somewhat better. Knowing that she is out of the hands of President Snow is such a wonderful relief. Yet, her condition often overshadows the hope, but I remind myself that it's still there- that I'm going to fight for her and bring the Katniss that I fell in love with back, because she's in there somewhere, and I will not leave her behind again.

* * *

They make me stay in the hospital for two extra days. I consider attempting to sneak my way out, but decide against it because odds are, if I was caught, they would want to keep me in here longer. However, when I am finally discharged, I race down to Katniss confines. Haymitch tells me how I am not allowed to see her yet because apparently, just hearing my name can set her off, let alone seeing my face. But I am allowed to sit behind a one-way glass wall where many other doctors sit, observing her. They are all staring intensely at the glass with pens and clipboards in hand. I can't help but feel like they are treating her like some kind of animal. I have to remind myself that they're only trying to help her.

"Prim is the only person she is completely comfortable with, so they have been using her a lot to help explain things to Katniss. She really trusts Prim." Haymitch tells me.

I nod my head. I think it is clear to everyone that these sisters have always had a relationship that was beyond love. They are willing to sacrifice everything for each other.

"Today Prim is going in to try to help Katniss understand her relationship with Gale." Haymitch adds a little apprehensively.

I see Gale seated a few seats over to my left. I don't think he's even noticed me enter the room; his eyes are locked on Katniss. Yet he has every reason to- Prim is probably about to remind her sister of the special relationship they had together. I am also going to get a front row view.

Katniss is sleeping right now and I notice how beautiful she looks. I always admired how young and radiant she looked while she was sleeping. Sometimes I would just stare at her for hours.

I watch as the door to her room slowly opens and Prim quietly walks in. Her hair is swept to the side of her shoulder and she too looks very tired.

"Katniss." She says gently as she walks toward her bedside. "Katniss."

Katniss stirs and eventually opens her eyes. She is startled at first and begins thrashing. I want to get up and run into her room because it is clear she was having a bad dream. And I have always been the one to pull her out of her nightmares so many times before. I was the one who held her close to prevent the terrifying images in her sleep. But I stay in my seat because I know that I'm now probably the terrifying image she is seeing.

Once she sees Prim's face in front of her, stroking her shoulder, she relaxes and a small smile appears across her face. It's so good to see her smile because when I was in the hospital, I was not sure I would be seeing it anytime soon.

"Is she like this with anyone else?" I ask Haymitch.

He shakes his head. "Not even close, even people she's never met, she is very cold towards. There is just a lot of confusion in her mind. Even her mother she is not sure of. Only Prim."

"How are you feeling?" Prim asks her.

"Better now that you came to visit me, little duck." Katniss says, sweeping a lose strand of hair away from Prim's face. "What did you do today?"

Prim hesitates for a moment before she speaks. I can tell she is really considering what she is about to say.

"I just had lunch in the dining hall….with Gale."

Katniss' face turns cold and it is clear how uncomfortable she is.

"Prim, I told you not to go near him, he could be dangerous!" Katniss exclaims. I watch Gale squirm in his seat.

"No, Katniss; he's not. Believe me…we have known him for a long time! He is your good friend." Prim speaks very calmly and slowly.

I can tell Katniss really comprehends everything Prim is explaining to her because their trust is very strong. Just one look at her face and you can tell her ideas and perceptions of Gale are changed from Prim's words.

"I don't…I think he wants to hurt me, Prim…or you." Katniss adds, sitting up in her bed.

"He doesn't though…he misses you." Prim replies.

Katniss wrinkles her eyebrow. "Does he love me?"

Prim hesitates here because I know she does not want to set her off. "I think so."

"And do I love him?"

Prim shifts her eyes away from Katniss and stares at the blank wall. I am not sure I want to hear this answer. I am not sure I want the confirmation of the fact that Katniss loves another man who is not me.

"You do," Prim begins, "but not in the way you suppose."

This takes me back. What does she mean by not in the way you suppose?

"What do you mean Prim?" Katniss asks, clearly as confused as the rest of us.

"I…I just think your heart was with someone else, Katniss." Prim says.

Someone else? Who else could there possibly be! Is there another man in her life that I-

My mouth instantly drops open at the realization that this someone else is me. I watch Gale look away from the glass and he immediately stands. He doesn't say anything and I don't dare look at his face. He strides to the door, slamming it behind him.

"Who?" I manage to here Katniss ask.

Now it is clear that Prim has become nervous. She knows she is not supposed to mention my name- not yet anyway. But now Katniss has brought it up and I don't think Prim was informed of what to do in a situation quite like this.

"We will talk about it another time, Katniss. I have to go to a class now on my schedule."

Katniss looks very confused, but she nods her head in agreement to her sister's words. They embrace quickly and Prim walks out of the room. My eyes do not leave the glass and my mouth continues to hang open at the thought of Prim's words. She has never really told me about these thoughts before. It feels somewhat selfish towards Gale, but I am very thankful she was able to tell Katniss that. There is also a stream of bliss coursing through my veins right now. Hearing from the person who is the closet to Katniss confirm that Katniss may have honestly loved me is the greatest thing I have heard since I arrived here. This helps me believe that her feelings for me will help in the process of bringing her back.

* * *

**You guys have been so deprived of Everlark with this story, that I had to through something somewhat positive in there! Don't get to excited though! This ship is fair from setting sail yet! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to leave me any comments or suggestions of ideas you would like to see in this story in the future! I will see you all again soon! XOX**


	15. Chapter 14

This morning, the crew left for District 2 to film a propo, or perhaps really to get away from the situation here. Katniss has now been in District 13 for six days. The plan for her rescue was also done in hopes that she would be useful as the Mockingjay, the role that was created for her all along. However, clearly right now, she is not stable enough to take that on. When she is not with Prim she lashes out, she can barely eat on her own when she is not there. So many things frighten her; so many people frighten her. It's hard to watch. Haymitch knew that he did not need to ask me to go to District 2. There was no way I was leaving now. I want to be here to see all of Katniss' improvements and setbacks; to help in any way that I can. They took Gale with them however; they needed someone to film. Gale has been struggling a lot with this, much like myself. However, he channels his feelings differently. He prefers keeping them to himself, and removing himself from these situations.

I don't sleep much anymore. I stay in a small glass room next to Katniss' quarters until late hours of the night, when they force me to leave. I come back in the mornings everyday at around 5:00AM. This is the time I used to arrive at the bakery each morning, so it actually feels somewhat normal. I try to remember to eat all of my meals, but lately I have been skipping many of them, and when I do eat, I allow myself ten minutes maximum until I force myself to return to Katniss. I have been avoiding my schedule completely, but nobody bothers me about it, at least for now. It takes a lot of strength to sit in the room every day because I so desperately want to run inside and be with her. But I can't.

Prim started slowly. Convincing Katniss that people like her mother, Finnick or even Buttercup won't hurt her. She has even almost completely convinced Katniss that Gale is not evil, which is a terrific improvement. Yet, she has still been instructed not to bring up my name. It's been hard because she has been bringing up the arena lately. Prim is scheduled to go into Katniss' quarters again today and they have instructed her to discuss the arena with Katniss. They even suggested bringing in Finnick to help clarify things.

* * *

Katniss and Prim sit around a small table that was placed in her room to eat lunch. I notice how they are eating lamb stew, and how Katniss probably forgets how fond she has always been of the warm creation.

"It smells familiar." Katniss states, inhaling the aroma of the stew.

"Try it," replies Prim. "It's one of your favourites."

Katniss stirs the broth around her bowl for a minute examining her meal. She then takes a spoonful and slowly brings it to her mouth. I watch her face light up and it makes me smile. She has the same reaction she did the first time she tried it, and for a moment, the old Katniss seems present.

Just as they finish their lunch, Finnick knocks on the door.

"Katniss, our friend Finnick is coming to visit you. He is very nice and won't hurt you." Prim explains.

Katniss nods her head, but she is visibly uncomfortable. Her body stiffens and I can see a slight twitch in her eye. When Finnick opens the door, he is smiling, but I can tell he seems nervous.

"Hi Katniss, Finnick says cheerfully.

"Hello." Katniss replies coldly.

"It's great to see you; you look well." He adds.

She does not respond.

Finnick takes a seat next to Prim and for awhile, Katniss just studies him. You can tell that she recognizes him, but does not know whether to trust him or not.

"You were in the arena too." Katniss finally says without bothering to ask any simpler question.

"Yes, I'm a victor just like you are." Finnick explains calmly.

Katniss takes in his words. "You...you were in there with me?"

"Yes, during the Quarter Quell." Finnick replies.

"How many people were in that arena, Finnick?" Katniss asks. She is clearly confused. The doctors comment on how promising it seems that Katniss is already referring to him by his name. I pretend to agree that it seems like an important improvement.

"Twenty-four go into the arena, Katniss." Prim adds.

"But there are only twelve districts; how can that be?" Katniss replies rather harshly.

Finnick and Prim look at each other and a few of the doctors in the observation room stiffen. This is a dangerous subject to be discussing because it is difficult to talk about district partners without talking about me.

"Two from…every district." Finnick replies.

"Your partner…I think I remember her. She was old, and could not speak very well. What was her name again? Mags!" Katniss shouts at the recollection.

Finnick's face brightens and he smiles at her because out of everything she chose to remember, she remembers Mags.

"Did she make it?" Katniss asks.

Finnick's joy fades instantly. "No…she didn't."

Katniss again is silent and her face tightens. Her eyes narrow and it is clear how hard she is thinking.

"Fog." She states.

Finnick nods his head

For a moment, we believe she is done, that she has nothing else about partners to ask. For a moment, it seems like Finnick and Prim were able to steer clear of this difficult topic.

"Who was my district partner? I'm not sure why I can't remember." Katniss says, looking down at her hands. She is visibly frustrated at herself for not knowing this.

It makes my heart instantly drop because my name is not supposed to me mentioned. I watch the doctors sit forward on the edge of their seats as they wait to hear how Prim and Finnick are going to respond to this situation.

"Uh, well, he was a boy from the town, Katniss." Prim says.

"Why can't I remember his name?" Katniss responds, becoming angry with herself.

"The Capitol did a lot to tamper with your memory, Katniss…" Finnick tells her gently.

"But, they just…they were helping me…what was his name?" Katniss is stuttering.

Haymitch is standing up and pacing closer to the glass, not sure if someone should intervene. Finnick and Prim clearly are unaware of what they are supposed to do; whether telling Katniss my name is going cause more harm than it would good.

"What was his name?" Katniss hollers, becoming more and more agitated.

Now I am on my feet, my hands pressed up against the glass.

"Uh..." Finnick stammers, thinking of something to say.

"Tell me!" Katniss is yelling and slams her fist onto the table.

Haymitch is motioning for the doctors to be sent into the room, probably to sedate her. Others are yelling orders and ideas of what should be done about this issue. Doctors are standing up and rushing out of the room, some feverishly writing notes onto clipboards when we hear Prim say it.

"His name is Peeta."

The entire room is silent again. My heart feels like it has dropped into my chest and it somehow feels like I have forgotten to breathe. I can see that Finnick's eyes are widening, like he too cannot believe what Prim has just said. Prim stands in front of Katniss looking unsure but calm.

However, the most surprising reaction comes from Katniss herself. She is frozen; she is not thrashing or yelling whatsoever. Yet, her eyes are as black as coal. Then I begin to notice that familiar twitch in her hands that slowly works its way up her body.

"Prim, he is evil!" Katniss finally exclaims, keeping her body still. "He tried to kill me- he will hurt you."

I can see that Katniss is just trying to protect her sister from something that she sees as a threat, something she has been trying to do her entire life.

"But he's not, Katniss." Prim pleads. "He's genuine and kind."

Katniss is standing now and almost her entire body is trembling.

"Did he tell you that? That's what he wants you to think! He is evil, Prim! A mutt! A Capitol mutt!" She is almost yelling now.

"No, Katniss- Peeta is not…" Finnick begins.

"He is talking to you too?" Katniss questions. "You can't speak to him; he will kill us all! I hate him! He is evil!" Her yell has turned into scream as she curls her hands into tight fists, tugging on Finnick's gray shirt.

"Katniss, please!" Prim is pleading with her and I notice the tears that are beginning to fall from her eyes.

"I hate him! He is a mutt! An evil mutt!" Katniss continues until a team of doctors are forced to enter. They drag Finnick and a crying Prim out, she is still trying to tell Katniss that I am not a mutt. However, this time even Prim's words are not getting through to her. Katniss is screaming horrible profanities about me until a single doctor finally sedates her.

It is not until Katniss goes silent that I realize that I am crying. The tears have soaked my cheeks and are streaming down onto my shirt. I realize at this moment how severe her hijacking was. Whether or not she loved me, is not for me to answer or assume. Yet, something I know to be true is that Katniss trusted me. I was fortunate enough to be one of the few people she could tell almost anything to. But now, she fears me with everything in her. _He's a mutt. I hate him_. Her words were so simple, yet they are enough to ruin me.

The tears continue to fall as I watch the girl I love lie lifeless in front of me. The girl I fell in love with is so far away, lost deep inside herself somewhere. But she is there. Somewhere.

* * *

**Hope you guys enjoyed this one! I hope you feel like you just want to give Peeta and big hug because I do! To be honest, I think seeing Katniss hijacked would have been more painful for him then actually going though it himself! Make sure to leave me a comment and tell me your thoughts! I will see you all soon XOX**


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